Blood must have blood
by PrincessFiona073
Summary: What would've happened in the war of the five kings, if there had been one more great house. One more player in the game. Her name is Everra Legrath, and she is one of the most powerful players of them all, even if you haven't realised it yet. Follow her journey as she returns home after many years abroad and becomes one of the most powerful players in the game of thrones.
1. Prologue

**Authors Note; Hello to whoever stumbles upon this story, this is my first fan fiction and I couldn't get this idea of this specific character out of my head. There are no official relationships or proper plans for this story, but I couldn't get this scene out of my head.**

 **I don't know when or if I'll update this again, but please tell me your thoughts, keep in mind this story is not will diverge from canon and I will most likely change the title. Thanks again!**

Prologue

The sun had just started to rise, yellows and pinks painted the sky. A young woman, with hair as black as coal and eyes the colour of grass, stood with a blank look on her face, as a young man with ragged looks and mud all over him was dragged towards her by two guards covered head to toe in armour.

"Please my lady! please have mercy!" the man pleaded.

The young woman stood still, her gaze unflinching and face unaffected by the mans cries.

The man continued on wrestling against the guards, who forced the man to kneel in front of the woman.

"My lady _please, please,_ have mercy!" the man continued on begging as his hands began to shake with fear, and his sobs became so violent that he was almost lying face down onto the grass.

"Do you want to die by hand or by sword?" the woman asked, her voice was cold as ice. She was growing impatient now, eager to get back onto the road home. The man continued on pleading _please please please._

The woman sighed softly and lifted her delicate fingers to the chin, tilting it upwards towards her,so his murky brown eyes stared into her emerald green ones.

"You spilt an innocent mans blood, now you must pay with your life. Blood must have blood." She said, her gaze unwavering and voice man kept on whimpering, but the fight left him, he knew how it would end.

"May you find peace," she muttered, before her hands grasped his neck and snapped it towards the side with a sick _crack._ The man now lay motionless on the ground, his face lying against the damp grass. The guards moved towards him and began to lift the body but the lady motioned them to stop.

'We do not have the time for a burial. The man knew the punishment for his crime and yet he did it anyway. I granted him a quick death, he deserves nothing more.' she commanded.

The guards nodded and dropped the body and slowly moved away from her, leaving her to her own thoughts. The woman sighed softly, and quickly brushed her hands against her dark green cloak, trying to get the warmth from the mans neck out of her glanced down at the body and her lips slightly turned up in amusement because somehow after all these years she still feels a flutter of surprise at how _empty_ she feels whenever she kills someone, which for someone of her age, gender and status, was more than what was expected of twenty full grown soldiers. When she was younger the emptiness had scared her but now, she barely even flinched whenever she took a man or woman's life but never a child's… at least not directly anyway.

After a few moments, she lifted her eyes from the body and carefully stepped over it, and kept on walking towards her guards, who were waiting for her with her horse.

She didn't look back.


	2. Chapter 1: The beginning of the end

_Six months before_

 _A man and woman stand in front of each other both holding swords in each of their outstretched arms, both of them examining the other carefully. They stand in a courtyard with a fountain in the centre and vines swirling around the pillars, it is beautiful and lavish. The sun is beating down on the pair, not a cloud in sight. On top the tallest pillar you can see a banner attached to it, a black panther graces the cover it with streaks of red coming out of its pair continued to circle each other, their footwork precise and with purpose, they both know what they are doing. The man darts forward and swiftly moves his sword to clash with that of the females. The female quickly lifts her sword to clash with his and quickly dashes behind the man forcefully kicking his back and sending him sprawling towards the onto his back the man starts scrambling and searching for his sword which had flew from his hand from the force of the kick but immediately stops moving the moment he feels the cool metal of the sword against his bare neck._

" _Ah ah ah Ser Daavos, you should know when you are beaten," the woman said, a small amused smirk gracing her lips._

" _Using a mans words against him my lady? I thought you were better than that," Ser Daavos answered, his voice teasing._

" _And you also thought you were a better fighter than me even after all these years and look where you ended up and also I was merely reminding you of what you taught me all those years ago when you were the master and I the apprentice," she replied._

 _Removing her sword from Ser Daavos's neck,she sheathed her sword and walked over to a table under the shade which was filled with various goblets, some of which were filled with water,some with wine and freshly ripe grapes on golden platters. A map lay in the middle of the table, with various markings on it each marking having a significant meaning, several papers and letters scattered around it. The woman placed her sword on the side of the table and grabbed a goblet of water and took a large gulp of the cool liquid. She placed the goblet back on the table and sat down on a stone chair and looked at the map, a contemplative look on her face._

" _My lady, may I ask what you are thinking?" Ser Daavos asked, he recognised that look on her face, it usually meant she was considering something important._

 _The woman let out a small sigh and turned her attention towards him, her green eyes piercing him with their intensity._

" _You may ask what I am thinking but that does not mean that I will tell you what I am thinking, that is why thoughts are thoughts, they are meant to be private, that is why they are in your head and only you can hear them, if I thought something I wanted you too know about, I would have told you already don't you think?" She said coldly, turning her head back towards the map, missing his crestfallen expression. No matter how hard he had tried over the years, he could never manage to convince her to let him in completely, though he was the only person alive in which she slightly let go around._

 _Taking a seat across from her, he grabs a goblet of water and takes a large gulp. After he finished with it he placed it back on the table and gestured towards the map," Where to next my lady?Where do you wish to go next? Do you wish to revisit Myr? Qohor? Do you wish to go to Mereen?" Ser Daavos asked._

 _The woman sighed and brushed a strand of her black hair which had escaped from her hair tie behind her ear, looking thoughtfully at the map. She continued to stare at the map intensely, lost in her own thoughts._

 _After a couple of moments in silence Ser Daavos continued on, "My lady, If I may, what do you plan to do considering Magister Illyrio's proposal-"_

" _Decline of course! Accepting his proposal to marry Viserys Targaryen is pure madness,"she whispered furiously, "to do so would be practically forcing myself int exile and a price for my head. Not that many people don't already have plans to kill me but I do not need to add all of the people in Westeros to that list. Besides, I am still only ten and six, I have plenty of time to find a husband."_

" _My lady, what if Viserys Targaryen does somehow manage to sit on the iron throne, he will remember this and he will-"_

" _Ser Daavos if you really think that Viserys Targaryen has a chance of sitting on the iron throne, you are clearly not as smart as I thought you to be. For now he is not a threat, he is an arrogant, power hungry fool who will die soon enough. As for what I plan to do next," she paused, grabbing the maps and the papers and placing them carefully into there respective chests, shutting it roughly," I'll tell you soon enough. Now, if you'll excuse me I have things to do." She stood up and walked out of the courtyard, leaving Ser Daavos to his own thoughts._

 _Later in the evening_

 _The lady from earlier is lying in a large bath, enjoying the steaming water, her eyes closed and her lips almost curled up at the sides - that is the closet they ever get to a smile- she is a beautiful woman, with a thin desirable body and firm breasts, but has a small scar on her left hipbone, the only sign of imperfection. The room she has is large and luxurious, with a grand view of the narrow sea from its balcony. Suddenly there is a loud knock on the door, "My lady, forgive the interruption but there is a woman here to see you, she says it is urgent," her handmaiden Laria's voice echoed from behind the large wooden door._

 _The woman let out a small annoyed sigh and rose from her bath, and sauntered over to a chair, where a white nightdress lay and slipped it on, "Send her in, Laria, I am decent." the woman called out, voice authoritative._

 _The woman sat in the chair behind a small wooden table which were stacked with papers and letters. The wooden door opened and in came Laria and a small old woman waring rags and whose face was folded over with wrinkles and covered with large patches of brown, her eyes were the colour of sand._

" _Leave us Laria, I will call the guards if I need anything," the woman commanded. Laria shuffled out of the room quickly and shut the door, leaving the pair on their own._

 _They both studied the other carefully in silence until the young woman broke the silence "If you have any urgent to say, say it now, you interrupted my bath and I hope for your sake it wasn't just to waste my time," the younger woman said coldly, her face emotionless._

 _The old woman's face broke out in a pleased smile and she let out a small smile," Forgive me my lady, I was merely admiring your beauty, I have only heard rumours of it but to see it face to face is quite another matter."_

" _What is your name and what do you want," the younger woman was unimpressed._

 _The old woman sobered up a little at that and her face lost all signs of humour,"You needn't know my name my lady, it is not important, I do not want anything from you, I have seen things which you need to know about and which is of great concern of yours-"_

" _Forgive me but I do not realise the authority you have to tell what is and is not my concern," the younger woman interrupted._

" _My lady, this is important, it is about the future of Westeros," the older woman replies urgently._

" _You have the sight?" the lady asked, her eyes revealing nothing._

' _Yes my lady. I am here to tell you of something I saw, which only you can change the outcome of,"the older woman said._

" _Go on."_

" _My lady there is to be a war in the land of Westeros, they will call it the war of the five kings, it will be between the lions and the dire wolves and the stags and the krakens, it will plunge Westerns into darkness. It will start with dire wolves and lions and extend into stags and krakens and roses and fishes, it will be the darkest war this world has ever seen and the people who win the war, will plunge Westeros into darkness for good. Only you can change this, Lady Everra. The dire wolves must win this war, but they can only win the war with your guidance and your armies."_

" _Why should I care about the dire wolves? The Starks are honourable fools, they do not how the game works, why should I care for them ? Risk my life, go on to the losing side. I do not care for them," Everra uttered._

" _You know why, Lady Everra, you know why," The older woman replied. There was a moment of silence as Everra regarded the old woman._

" _I suppose you are right, I do know why," Everra admitted, though she did not look to pleased about it._

 _The old woman breathed a sigh of relief, the fear inside of her finally leaving. She had heard rumours of Lady Everra's intelligence, beauty and of how much of a good warrior and strategist she was, but she had also heard the whispers of how cold hearted and ruthless she was capable of being._

" _I also have something else which I believe will interest you, my lady," the woman said, and lifted the ragged skirts of her dress to reveal a small ball of black fur which lay by her feet. She crouched down and gently picked the animal up and held it for Lady Everra to view._

" _Is that a baby panther?" Everra exclaimed looking astonished._

" _And she is all yours. I thought it might be a nice gift," the older woman replied looking slightly smug at being able to surprise the great Everra Legrath._

 _Everra stood up and strode towards the woman and gently took the panther out of the woman wrinkly hands and held it in front of her with an almost tender look in her eyes until she saw the look on the older woman's face._

" _Thank you for your gift, you are mot generous. You may stay here in my home for as long as you please," Everra said stiffly, her eyes darted back to the black panther in her arms. The older woman waved her hand, "Thank you for your generosity my lady, but I am afraid my time here with you is done."_

 _Everra glared at her and protested loudly, "Done? I have many questions for you about what will happen and who is involved in this war, what started it, why the starks lost-"_

" _And you will get your answers in time my lady, you will see what could have happened yourself," the older woman replied, "Take care, my lady, look after each other, have patience, the answers to your questions will come to you sooner or later."_

" _What do you mean by that-" by the time Everra had turned around, the old woman was gone, the only evidence of her ever being there was the black cat in her arms._

" _What am I to name you," she said to the panther. The panther rubbed itself against her chest and purred in delight, the panther was a beautiful thing. Everra let out a small chuckle at it and petted her head,"Andromache, thats what I'll name you."_

 _Everra gently placed Andromache onto the floor and sat back down on her chair, thinking of what the woman had said to her. she glanced back down at Andromache who was staring up at her with her wide green eyes and said "I guess its time to finally go home."_

 **Authors note; Hello Everyone! thank you for all of you who favourited and followed this story and reviewed! it really means a lot to me. I hope you all enjoy this, I plan on going into more depth of Everra's background and what her home is and her family background and the like in later chapters. Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter! hopefully, the chapters will grow longer in time, I'm still learning the basis of writing a story. Thanks again :)**


	3. Chapter 2: Home Sweet Home

**Disclaimer! I own nothing! The world of a song of Ice and Fire and game of thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin and the creators of the show, I have no claim to anything.**

 **A/N please remember that this story is not edited!**

Chapter 3

 _A young man is standing in a middle of a dimly lit room. He is surrounded by his dead banner men and his dead wife and his unborn child. An arrow is sticking out of shoulder and his blue eyes are filled with defeat and a glint of acceptance, he is staring at his red headed mother, who is holding a whimpering girl captive with a knife to her throat and she is pleading for something and to someone._

 _An old man with a snarl on his face sits at the head of a table, casually drinking some wine,_

' _On my honour as a Tully, on my honour as a stark, let him go or I'll cut your wife's throat!"_

 _The old man shrugged casually a small smirk on his face, "I'll find another."_

 _The young man called out, "Mother" the woman turned and looked at him, tears streaming down her face as another man walked up to her son and spat out, "The Lannister send their regards," and plunged a knife into the young mans chest and watched calmly as the young man slowly fell to the ground, dead. The woman let out cry filled with anguish and grief and anger and then slit the young girls throat, without seemingly realising what she had done. She stood there defeated and after a few moment another man walked up to her and slit her throat, watching with a malicious smirk as blood burst from the woman's neck as she fell to the ground. Outside the castle, you could hear the cries of the soldiers and could hear them running for their lives as each and every one of them were being slaughtered. Finally, a group of men started shouting "The King In The North! The King In The North!"A_ _s the young mans body was tied upon a horse, and a dire wolfs head was sown onto his body._ _In the distance, the banner with a direwolf was burning._

Everra woke up with a sudden gasp and sprung upwards from the bed in panic, whirling her head wildly across the room, shuddering and closing her eyes tightly, trying to get the burning image of a young man with a dire wolfs head out of her mind. She heard a purring sound from below and looked over to see Andromache on the foot of the bed, gazing up at her with a concern.

"Come here you," Everra murmured and gestured for Andromache to come closer. Andromache hopped onto the bed with a light thud and moved towards her mistress, rubbing her head against her shoulder in a attempt to comfort her mistress.

Everra gently petted her head and sighed, shifting her gaze towards the entrance of the tent. The sun had not yet risen and the only sound you could hear was the howling of the wind. Everra rose out of bed and strode to the other side of the tent where a dark green velvet dress lay out for her to wear.

Everra quietly slipped off her nightdress and allowed the cool air to feast on her naked body, no goosebumps appeared, she had not felt cold ever since her father had left her out in the snow with only her nightdress for four nights straight when she was six. It had been considered a miracle she had not died by all the maesters that had treated her afterwards.

She tugged her underdress over her head and then slipped on the dark green dress. It was a beautiful dress, with gold laces on the back and gold embroidered flower designs on the upper body, with a gold belt shaped in circles that went down the front of her body, almost reaching her knees and then she attached her sword 'Kindness' to her belt.

Everra, rolled up the sleeves of her dress until her elbows and wrapped a band around each of her forearms and placed two knifes under each band and then tugged the sleeves down to cover them.

She then tugged the skirts of her dress up and bent down to give her shins the same treatment. She always had a weapon on her, she had been taught to expect danger at any moment and she was not planning on leaving herself vulnerable anytime soon.

She brushed a comb through her black, waist length curls and simply tied two pieces of hair at the back of her head and placed down her comb.

"Andromache! Too me!" she commanded, and sure enough the large black cat was next to her in an instant.

"Time to wake up the rest of them," Everra muttered and exited the tent, Andromache trailing behind her.

The sun had just started to rise, the darkness of the night slowly started to fade away, it was time for them to get back on the road. The men had just started to wake and soon enough the once quiet atmosphere filled with shouts and murmurs.

"My lady, everything is almost ready for us to be on our way, we should arrive at RedRun before nightfall," Ser Daavos uttered, approaching Everra.

Everra looked at him from the corner of her eye, he looked tired, with circles surrounding his grey eyes, they looked rather abnormal on his tan skin, he really was quite a handsome man. Everra's eyes had gone back to their usual emotionless state as she assessed the guards progress.

"My lady, a raven was sent from RedRun, here is the message," Ser Daavos handed the small piece of paper to her. She took it from his grasp and tore it open, her eyes skimming over the words quickly.

'My lady, is all well?"

"Everything is just as it should be, Ser Daavos," she replied and then promptly tore the paper into small pieces, ignoring Ser Daavos's concerned look and let the wind blow the pieces into somewhere unknown.

She then turned to look at him fully, her eyes lingering on his face, letting no emotion show as always,

"Lets just say we will be having a very _entertaining_ supper."

Everra walked away from him, leaving him standing there with a confused look on his face.

* * *

"My lady, we should arrive at RedRun within the hour," Ser Daavos announced from beside her.

They were on their horses now and were currently surrounded by green mountains and grey skies,

the wind howling and Andromache running off in the distance. She had brought five hundred men to accompany her to RedRun and was now regretting that decision as they were slowing her down. she was getting frustrated at their slow pace, she needed as much time as she can if she is to start setting her plans into motion, she couldn't afford any time to lose.

'My lady?"

Everra snapped out of her thoughts and turned her gaze towards him, "Tell me Ser Daavos, have I ever told you the history of my home?"

"No my lady, I'm afraid not."

"When the Targareyns first came to Westeros three hundred years ago, the bloodlands had no lords, or ladies for that matter, it was a deserted piece of land which barely anyone liked to go too because of the legends about the place,however my ancestor Everth helped put Aegon on the throne and spied for him and to reward him for his services, Aegon made him the warden of the bloodlands and and placed three other noble families around the area, however it was too small to be considered a kingdom. Do you know why the call them the bloodlands? It is because people believe that the rocks used to make the castle RedRun were stained with blood, and all the other ground surrounding it too."

Ser Daavos looked like he wanted to question her more about it but she cut him off before he could.

"Have we heard any news from Laria yet?"

"Yes my lady," he turned around to make sure no one was eavesdropping and considerably lowered his voice, " All of the 'little birds' have reported everything you wanted them too. It appears that whatever you threatened them with made them lose all thoughts of loyalty towards Lord Varys."

"Good, he cannot know of our plans Ser Daavos, because if he knows, then the king and queen know and if they know… then this is not going to work the way we want it too." Everra looked at him directly in the eye and brought her horse to a halt, " This war… we may not survive it. I've won many battles, but I've heard of Tywin Lannister, he lives up to his name and reputation. So do I, I suppose, but I'm not trying to win this war for myself it would seem. I have to help a man I barely even know to win it and he does not even know that it is coming. When we arrive at RedRun, everything is going to change. We'll never be able to go back to Essos. At least, I will never be able too."

"My lady, if things go as planned, as I am sure that it will, you have never lost a battle and you have an army of sixteen thousand men alone, some of which including the best warriors in the world-"

"Ser Daavos, my father once told me to never underestimate you're enemies, because if you do, it will come back and bite you in the ass. My father forgot that over the years and thats what got him killed. I do not plan on making that same mistake." Everra regarded him closely and continued on moving forward.

"Then perhaps we should have never come back, my lady," Ser Daavos called out, his voice desperate.

Everra tilted her head to look back at him, she had always known that Ser Daavos felt something for her that she did not feel for him, but it was moments like this where she she almost pitied him for falling in love with someone like her. Almost. She was about to speak up before Andromache let out a small roar and she snapped her head up to look at the sleek black cat whom was a small distance away from them.

'It appears we are within sight of RedRun Ser Daavos, it is a little bit to late for wishful thinking," Everra continued, "Let the men know, tell them to move faster," she commanded and did not wait for him to reply, making her horse gallop to where Andromache was waiting for her. When she arrived, she jerked her horse to a stop, admiring the site of her childhood home.

The first thing you could see was the bloodstone tower which was a singular, tall thick stone tower the colour of blood, towering over the rest of the castle, rumours had spread that it was so tall it reached the sky, though Everra noted that this was a major exaggeration. Two other small thinner towers rose to a similar height except with a pointed triangular top while the other was square shaped and with battlements. There were thick high halls, made of the same stone, with battlements that surrounded the castles and then there was moat with a bridge over it, that lead to the main gate, which led them to the front courtyard.. Behind the castle you could see tall mountains casting a shadow over it. Those mountains are known as the Blood Mountains, because of their unusual shade of colour - that of blood. There was no road to RedRun, only the people who lived there knew the safest ways to travel there.

Everra could feel her hands tightening around the reigns of her horse and could feel, a heavy weight of emotions inside of her that she dared not let show. She knew that coming back here would affect her, she just did not know how much. _No one knew then, and no one knows now. He is not there Everra, you saw to that,_ she kept on chanting in her head, all the while keeping a blank expression on her face.

"My lady?"

Everra snapped out of her thoughts and then came to realise that she had not moved the entire time and that the men and the carts had all swept on in front of her, trailing down the hill. She ignored Ser Daavos and motioned for her horse to gallop to the front, Andromache sprinting beside her.

Everra would not let some ghost of the past affect her, she had no time for the dead, only the living.

* * *

As they finally reached the main gate, Everra took a moment to prepare herself internally, for she knew that the ghosts and demons that she had thought she left behind were still there along with the girl she used to be.

When the large wooden doors finally opened, she knew in her heart of hearts that there was no going back and strangely enough, she felt a kind of excitement she had not felt in years spark up in her heart. _I guess I am more like my father after all, getting excited at the thought of war,_ she thought to herself wirily.

The front courtyard was a dull place, with no flowers or trees to be seen, only stone, with stairs leading up to the main tower, the one that was said to reach the skies. She had always disliked the place, even when she was a child. There was a small group of men, women and even some children waiting for her at the beginning of the stairs. She recognised them as the families of all her lords, Lord Willem Gilbert, Lord Edwin Tudar and Lord Yullian Maery. She also recognised Maester Liwin whom she had known since she was born, he was an old man with hunched shoulders and a permanently serious look on his face, but he had kind eyes, eyes that held more kindness than she possessed in her entire body.

The air was thick and tense and as she climbed off her horse, she sensed a slight air of disapproval from Lord Willem and his wife and children, whom all had a distasteful look on their faces. They were an ugly bunch and they would get what was coming to them, but first she must play her part.

She turned to a group of guards that were standing nearby, with fearful expressions on their faces, she gestured towards them, "Escort my men to the training pen and take all of the horses to the stables. I expect that accommodations have already been made," she commanded and when they made no sign of moving she yelled more forcefully, "Now!"

"My lady," they all stuttered and got to work, leading the men away from the courtyard, leaving the courtyard in silence and only Ser Daavos behind her.

A small growl filled the air of the courtyard and she internally enjoyed the expression of fear in majority of the groups eyes as they noticed Andromache.

Everra leaned down and rubbed her behind her ear, instantly relaxing Andromache. Everra strode towards the group and took a moment to assess them all. Lord Yullian Maery was a man in his fifties who could have been reasonably handsome in his youth if he did not have a permanent smile on his face, exposing his yellow teeth, he was somewhat of an idiot and a weak one too. His wife was a small woman, with a solemn expression on her face, she was somewhat pretty, maybe if she smiled she could have been considered beautiful. The pair had two daughters and one son, the daughters of who were ten and two and the son who looked slightly older than Everra. Lord Edwin Tudar had refused to marry although he was a handsome man considering his age, with broad shoulders and black hair that was turning grey at his scalp. Lord Willem Gilbert was an arrogant fool and so were his wife and his only son, who also happened to be his only child.

They all slightly curtsied towards her and echoed 'My lady'.

"Rise, My lords, my ladies, Maester". They turned there heads up to look at her and slowly rose in front of her, looking warily at Andromache.

"Have no fear, she will not harm you whilst I'm around, my lords, my ladies," Everra announced, regarding them all closely.

"My lady, it has been so long! Ten very longs years have we awaited your return! We have all missed your presence at RedRun," Lord Gilbert cried out dramatically.

Everra noticed that Lord Willem narrowed his eyes at the other Lord and stiffened as he realised that she had noticed. "My lady," he said stiffly, averting his eyes from hers.

"Yes, yes my lady, how we have missed your presence! You have grown so much! We have been counting the days until your return, my lady," Lord Yullian had spoken now, though she noticed that from the others expression's that this was normal behaviour and was genuine, unlike lLord Willem and his family.

"I'd like to thank you all, for your patience with me for my absence over these long ten years. I am most grateful to you all. I will reward you all later this evening at the feast, that I've heard my dear Lord Gilbert has planned for my return," Everra said praisingly, pasting a wide smile on her face as she addressed him, " My dear Lord Gilbert, what would I have done without you and your families help!" She pressed her hands to her chest and said with a sickeningly sweet voice, "Oh how you and your family has touched me with your kindness! I hear you've been taking care of everything here at RedRun and have taken care of running the mines and the household! Oh how your kindness has touched me so!'

Ser Daavos was staring at her, gobsmacked, eyes filled with confusion. Everra turned her back to everyone and winked discreetly and walked up to him grabbing his hand in her cold one,

'Everyone this is my companion Ser Daavos, he has been one of my constant companions in my journeys abroad, he will be staying here for as long as he wishes,' Everra continued on with her sickeningly sweet voice.

After all the introductions had ended and all the lords and ladies left to their chamber to prepare for the feast did Everra finally lower her facade and return to her usual emotionless expression. Maester Liwin and Ser Daavos remained with her in the courtyard, both of them still looking on with confusion.

"My lady," Maester Liwin whispered, "did you not receive my raven about how-"

"Have no worries Maester, I am fully aware of what he is planning. Everything is under control. Ser Daavos, find the men we brought with us and **only** the men we brought with us and tell them to round up all the men that Lord Gilbert has granted money or rewarded with some sort of title. Master Liwin will give you the list of names shortly after I leave. Tell them to wait until everyone is in the great hall for the feast before they bring them, round them up outside the door. Tell them to wait until they hear a woman's scream to enter."

Ser Daavos continued on looking confused, "My lady if I may ask wh-"

Everra turned around to look at him and stared at him coldly, 'No you may not ask why. Do as you are told. Now you best get moving, this will take a while. You must be the last one to enter the great hall and when you do, close the door, do I make myself clear?" Everra asked harshly, he nodded.

"Good, now if you'll excuse me I have to prepare for the feast," Everra started up the stairs, Andromache following behind her, before stopping halfway and said quietly, "Oh and Maester Liwin, out of all the people here, you are the only one I am even remotely glad to see."

Everra turned her back to the pair, and walked up the stairs, silently fuming. If there was one thing she could not stand it was treachery, it was a shame that her first night back home would be a bloody one.

 **A/N Hi everyone, thank you to all of those who have favourited and reviewed. I wasn't too pleased with this chapter, but I hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know how you feel about Everra and her relationship with Ser daavos. Hope you all are enjoying this so story so far! Please remember to review, I would really appreciate it if you did! Thanks again!**


	4. Chapter 3: A night to Remember

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the game of thrones universe! Everything belongs to Geroge r.r. martin and the creators of the show. I only own Everra's character.**

Chapter 4

"My lady is everything well?" A young handmaiden asked, holding a bucket of steaming water in the middle of the doorway to Everra's chambers. She had been standing near an open window, gazing at outside. Coming back home affected Everra more than she wished to admit.

Everra peered back to look at the girl, frowning slightly when she looked familiar but she could not quite place her. She gestured for her to enter and the young girl shut the door and scurried in and poured the hot water in the bath behind the bathing screen.

All of Everra's belonging's had already been placed in her chambers, the chambers she had before she had left. Andromache lounged on her bed, licking her paw, oblivious to the world around her.

"What would you like to wear tonight my lady?" the girl asked, tucking a stray strand of place blonde hair behind her hear as the walked over to Everra's wardrobe, where all of her dresses, tunics and breeches had been placed out of their chests. Two other chests lays near the empty ones but those seemed like they required keys to open them.

"I would like to bathe first. As I do so, I will allow you to chose for me."

"As you wish my lady," the girl hurried over towards her and Everra turned her back towards her and allowed her to tug at the laces, the green dress falling around her ankles, leaving her in her underdress. The girl then removed the hairpins from Everra's hair, allowing her black locks to run freely down her back.

The girl suddenly inhaled sharply and took a step back.

"What is it?" Everra questioned sharply, turning to look at her.

"My apologies my lady, its just that you startled me with- with- those…"

"Those?"

"Knives, my lady." The young girl stammered, looking at the ground, her cheeks turning pale.

Everra raised an eyebrow in slight annoyance, "If you are going to be my handmaiden, you are going to have to get used to seeing knives and various other weapons. You'll be seeing them quite regularly and for both of our sakes, you best get used to them."

"Yes my lady," the girl muttered and took a step towards her.

Everra then calmly removed her knives from her person and placed them in the young girls hands. She flinched at the coolness of the blade, her eyes widening with fear.

"If I wished to kill you, you would be dead by now girl. You have nothing to fear from me, I don't randomly kill people for no reason. If you wish to stay alive, do not give me a reason, understood?"

The girl nodded and placed the knives on Everra's bedside table and turned towards her, "The bath will get cold soon, my lady. We must hurry if we are to be in time for the feast."

She helped Everra tug her underdress over her head and led her towards the steaming bath behind the bathing screen. The girl then hurried over to Everra's large wooden wardrobe, which was still in sight from where Everra was standing behind the screen.

"What is your name, girl?" Everra sunk into the steaming water, relishing the feeling of the warm water against her pale skin.

The girl paused from where she was at the wardrobe, her voice sounding muffled, "Anna, my lady."

Everra paused for a moment, her eyes widening slightly at the realisation, "Your mother was my mothers handmaiden, correct?" Her green eyes narrowed slightly at the young girl, watching as her body stiffened slightly at the mention of her mother.

"Yes, my lady she indeed she did."

Everra frowned slightly, she remembered the fate of all her mothers personal staff suffered after she had died, it had not been a pretty one. She poured some of the lavender scented water over her head, still keeping a careful eye on the girl.

"You should not make yourself so obvious you know," she called out, watching as the young girl frowned slightly in confusion, "My lady?"

"If you wish to murder your lord or lady, you should not become a member of their personal staff, they are the first people others suspect to have done the crime despite whether or not they have actually done it," she continued on, waiting for Anna's reaction.

"My lady, I don't- understand- what you are speaking of-" the girls eyes had widened in confusion, staring at Everra's indifferent face.

"Don't you?" She asked cooly, "You wish to murder me as retribution for what my father did to your mother," Everra shrugged casually and looked at Anna straight in the eye, "Personally, I do not particularly blame you, what my father did to your mother was monstrous."

Anna's jaw tightened and her brown eyes were sprung with angry tears which she wiped at furiously with balled fists and began to shake her head in denial.

"You do know what my father did to her, correct? Because if you don't I'd be happy to indulge you," she continued on, regarding the young girl closely.

"I am aware of what he did to her, my lady," she whispered, a stray tear streaming down her face.

"Have I upset you? Hmm? Have I made you want too kill me Anna?" Everra taunted, "Go on, there is a knife right there, do it. Go on, do it. Gods know you'll be saving many lives by killing me. Do it."

Anna started shaking her head violently and managed to speak through her tears, "No, my lady, I have no wish to harm you, I never have! What your father did was his own actions not yours, I have no wish to see you dead, by mine or anyones hand!"

Everra rose from the bath, her naked body dripping wet, her feet planted against the cool stone floor. She regarded her handmaiden carefully, a contemplative look on her face. She grabbed her robe and wrapped it around her body.

"Of course you don't, you sweet girl," she said cooingly and strode across the room to hug the girl to her chest, softly stroking her hair as the girl sobbed into her chest. _This was almost too easy,_ Everra thought to herself, a cold look in her eyes contradicting her affectionate actions.

* * *

They spent the next hour or so in silence, not speaking a word to each other, the only sound in the room was that of Andromache licking her paws repeatedly. Everra regarded herself in her mirror, nodding slightly, satisfied with her appearance. She was wearing a sleeveless burgundy coloured dress which straps were golden coloured leaves that were clasped around her neck. Around her waist was a golden belt that was styled into the shape of leaves, a burgundy coloured mantle was wrapped around the lower parts of each of her arms and then went behind her waist. Her black curly locks had been pinned up to the top of her head, leaving her neck exposed, a red circlet headpiece graced her forehead.

Anna stood there silently, rubbing at her swollen red eyes, waiting for her judgement.

"This will do, thank you. I am in no longer need of your services for the rest of the evening, sweet one." There was no affection in her in voice and Anna fled from the room with a quiet 'my lady'.

Everra breathed out a relieved sigh and strode over to one of the unopened chests and gently tapped it twice on each side and then once on the top and it opened. It was a rather marvellous creation, one which she had bought on one of her trips to Pentos. The chest contained various sorts of knives and other weapons, not including her sword, which was placed against the foot of her bed, she grabbed two red knives disguised as hairpins and carefully placed them at the top of her head, the red jewels standing out against her raven hair. She then shut the chest carefully and rose back to her full height, smoothing out the skirts of her dress.

She grabbed the knives which Anna had placed on her beside table and put two in each of her boots. Fortunately the other knives had gold incrusted handles, she then carefully placed them in her belt, making sure that the blade of each knife was not visible.

"Andromache?" The panther peered up at her mistress and tilted her head slightly, annoyed that she had been distracted from cleaning herself.

"Andromache, too me!" Everra commanded, muttering under her breath at how spoilt the cat had gotten. Andromache growled slightly and leaped off the bed towards her mistress, landing gracefully beside her.

Everra rubbed the top of Andromache's head and the panther purred in delight, annoyance soon forgotten.

"This will surely be a night to remember," Everra said wirily, exiting her chambers and closed the door behind her softly, the hallway lit up by torches. Lifting up the skirts of her dress she quietly makes her way down the hall to the staircase which leads to the feast hall on the ground floor.

It would be a memorable night for everyone who lived in the Bloodlands.

* * *

The feast hall had been beautifully decorated. It was a large room which was decorated with various exotic flowers and red and black silks had been twisted around the pillars and intertwined with the flowers on the tables. Candles were littered all over the hall, it was alive with music and you could hear the roar of laughter from outside the large wooden door. No one had begun eating yet and when she entered the hall all sounds of laughter left the room and everyone rose from their seats as she strode slowly towards the head table where Lord Gilbert and the other lords were sitting. Lord Yullians children were not there as they had been feeling ill.

Fortunately, Lord Gilbert had left an empty seat for her next to his son, Lither- Lirell? Something of a sort. Golden plates and goblets had been set out on to the tables, she noted that hers had already been filled with wine. _Idiot,_ she thought to herself, _it is as almost as if he is shouting it out to the world._

Still, she plastered a wide smile on her face as she approached them and kissed each and every one of them on the cheek and motioning for them all to sit down.

"Please don't stop on my account, let the feast commence!" She cried out, forcing laughter out of her.

"My lady, you look ravishing!" Lord Gilbert drawled out, his eyes lingering at her breasts. She noticed, to her internal aggravation, that he was sitting in her father's chair, the chair that the head of the household sat in whenever they had feats and vividly imagined his head on a spike.

"Why thank you Lord Gilbert! I am so grateful towards you for throwing this splendid feast for me! I am incredibly grateful towards you and your family especially and will see all of you _especially_ _rewarded_ for your good services to my house and the land."

"Why my lady it has been so pleasurable to serve you and the lands! I almost feel as though I am Lord of the Bloodlands myself!" He said pleasantly and laughed. Everra could feel her insides boiling with rage at his nerve but forced yet another smile onto her face and thanked him once more, sending curt nods of acknowledgement to both Lord Yulian and Lord Edwin.

As Everra took her seat beside Lord Gilberts son she noticed that Ser Daavos had not yet entered the feast hall. Lord Gilberts son whose name turned out to be Luther had been rambling on about gods know what, she nodded her head, pretending to listen. Andromache had settled herself under the table by Everra's feet, she did not like people very much, the only person she liked was Everra herself.

A few hours and plates of food later, Ser Daavos finally entered the hall and as silently as possible closed the large wooden door, looking as handsome as usual with his signature black attire. He sent a discreet nod in her direction and sat down a few tables in front of her. Everyone was too drunk to have been noticed that anyone was amiss, especially Lord Gilbert.

Everra then called a servant over towards her and Luther, asking for a refill of wine for Lord Luther.

After doing so, Everra quickly swept her spoon of the table and on to Lord Luther's lap, crying out "My apologies my lord! I am so awfully clumsy at times!"

"Next time be more careful, this is silk from Essos!" the young lord snapped at her, turning his head down to pick up the spoon, shoving it at her with an arrogance that made her blood boil."My sincerest apologies my lord." Everra caught Ser Daavos's eye and nodded, rising from her seat.

"My lords, my ladies, I thank you all for generosity and patience with and for me over these past ten years of my life, I would like to thank you all for your loyalty and kindness and for running everything smoothly in my stead, as so, I would like to have a toast for good friends," she smiled at Lord Gilbert and the rest of them, " and loyalty."

Everyone cheered loudly and took large gulps from their cups of wine but Everra was not finished just yet.

"However, even though all of you have touched me with your kindness, there has been one family which had truly impressed me with their kindness, loyalty, humility and generosity. Will Lord Willem Gilbert and his family please stand up!"

Everyone started to applaud the family as they rose from their chairs and stood in front of Everra. She kept the smile plastered on her face, relishing at there nativity and stupidity, "Now, Lord and Lady Gilbert, I feel as though I haven't rewarded you all for your _loyalty_ in a way that you truly deserve,"she took a large gulp from her cup, watching as Lord Gilbert's eyes sparkled with triumph, thinking that she had just condemned herself to death,"Lord Gilbert may you please place both of your hands in front of me," Lord Gilbert frowned slightly and shuffled forward nonetheless, placing his old wrinkly hands on the table in front of him.

She leaned forward towards Lord Gilbert and whispered in his ear, "Thank you for making this so easy for me, Lord Gilbert. You should have known never to cross me and now your son will pay the price, remember the words of my house, Blood must have blood."

She watched in satisfaction as all the colour left the mans face, his eyes widening with fear and panic as he turned towards his son but before he could yank his hands off the table and shout a warning to his wife, Everra had quickly removed both of the knives from her hair and thrusted each if them into each of his wrists through the table, pinning him down.

He howled in pain and knelt down in front of the table because his body went limp from the pain. Everyone had jumped out of their seats startled and horrified by this sudden change in events.

Lord Gilbert's son had unsheathed his sword and took two steps towards her, before he started clutching at his throat and heaving, unable to breath from the poison in his lungs. He sunk down to the floor, convulsing as blood streamed down from his nose and mouth. His mother started to scream, it was a loud high pitched scream filled with grief and anger, Lord Yullian had tried to rise from his seat but one glare from Everra stopped him. Somehow everyone had gotten the unspoken message not to interfere, as the woman shrill scream continued to fill the air the entrance door to the feast hall swung open and some of her Essosi men came barreling through the door, each of them dragging one of Lord Gilbert's allies with a knife pressed to their necks.

Luther finally drew his last breath and slumped in his mothers arms, all signs of life leaving him. She continued to whimper, her shoulders shaking violently. Lord Gilbert however was still on his knees, tears of pain flowing down his cheeks as more blood fled from his wounds. While almost everyone was sitting in their seats with horrified and terrified expressions on their faces, Everra had sat back down, casually drinking some wine whilst petting Andromache, who had jumped onto Luther's seat next to her. When she noticed that Luther had died, she rose from her seat and dragged her eyes across the room, satisfied with everyones expression.

Her green eyes flickered down towards Lord Gilbert and she made her way around the table slowly, purposely dragging on his torture. She turned her back towards him and when she spoke, everyone knew that she was directing her words at all of them, "I may be many things, I am a killer and a liar and a manipulator but if there is one thing in this world I can not tolerate it is treachery. Lord Gilbert planned on murdering me tonight, taking over my lands, putting my head on a spike. However I stopped him and now he pays the price," she gestured towards his son, "If you are loyal to me and serve me well you have no reason to be afraid and will be rewarded accordingly, however, if I find anyone spying plotting or scheming against me, I will have your head before you can finish saying 'mercy'. Do I make myself clear?"

Everyone nodded slightly and kept their gaze on the ground below, too terrified to look at her.

Lord Gilbert had started to howl in pain once more and yelled "YOU STUPID BITCH! YOU FUCKING WHORE! I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL HAVE HUNDREDS AND THOUSANDS OF MEN RAPE YOU JUST LIKE YOUR WHORE MOTHER YOU FILTHY CUN-" Andromache had just interrupted his speech by mauling his face, muffling his screams of agony as his face was torn apart.

Everra's eyes were almost black with fury and when she turned towards Lord Gilbert's wife and as she stalked towards her she only thought of Lord Gilbert's words as she stabbed her in her neck, chest and head, _I WILL HAVE,_ stab, _HUNDREDS AND THOUSANDS_ , stab, _OF MEN RAPE YO_ U, stab, _JUST LIKE ,_ stab _, YOUR WHORE MOTHER_ , stab.

By the time Everra had calmed down, she had stabbed the woman so many times she no longer looked human because her body was so damaged and covered in blood. Everra let the knife slip through her fingers and turned towards Lord Yullian and Lord Edwin saying, "As a reward for not being treacherous bastards you can have all of Lord Gilbert's jewels, gold and whatever else you consider valuable and split between the two of you. His men however, belong to me."

Everra then turned towards her guards whom were still holding all of Lord Gilbert's allies and commanded them in Valyrian to take them all down to cells for questioning and that she would deal with them tomorrow. Everyone still looked horrified at the slaughter that had just taken place in from of them all, a reminder of what would happen if they dared betray her.

Everra looked at them all, her signature emotionless expression gracing her face as though she had not just murdered three people and said calmly "You may all leave now."

Everyone rose from their seats, eerily silent as they made their way out of the feast hall.

Everra glanced impassively at the bodies and looked at Andromache who was lying on top of Lord Gilbert's body, wagging her tail lazily. She walked over to the bodies and yanked her knives of out Lord Gilbert's lifeless hands and gripped them tightly in her palms, the blade cutting in to her palms.

She remembered how when she was younger how when she used to hit or kill or yell at someone she used to feel a rush of guilt, anger, grief, now she only felt the emptiness creep away into her heart and turn it into stone as she slowly became the person she had sworn to her mother she would never be like.

Her father.

 **A/N Hello everyone! hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I know I had some fun writing it. Now I hope you all enjoyed Everra this chapter, as you can see her mother is a rather touchy subject for her. I wanted to create a character when I began writing this fanfic that was the protagonist of the story but was also a monster as well. I mean, Everra has and will do somethings that are completely monstrous and I hope you all manage to like her anyways. Please tell me your thoughts and thanks o everyone who reviewed and favourited/followed.**

 **Also in regards to your question kawaiixkisses, Everra herself does not have the sight. In the first chapter the old woman says that Everra will see what could have happened herself and all the questions Everra had would be answered in time and the old women is the one who is responsible for sending the dreams in order to answer her questions.**

 **Thanks again!**


	5. Chapter 4: Test of Loyalty

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. George R.R. martin and the producers of the show own everything.**

Chapter 4

Twenty men stood in a small cramped room, chains around their wrists. The room was dark and all you could hear was the sound of their breathing. They had all been forced to stand there since the night before, after what people were already calling 'the blood feast'. The door to the room swag open and they all cringed away from the light of the torch, it burned their eyes.

"All of ye out!" The turnkey yelled. His name was Dorv and he was a fat man, with repulsive looks and yellow teeth. He was also known for his love of torturing the prisoners and keeping a monument of each one of them, whether it be a tooth or an eye or a finger.

The prisoners quietly shuffled out of the room, all energy had already left their bodies and they no longer had the will to argue. Fear struck their hearts as they saw Lady Everra and her black murderous panther who slaughtered Lord Gilbert and his family waiting for them, along with a man dressed in all black whose name they recalled was Ser Daavos and Maester Liwin, Lord Yullian and Lord Edwin and two guards.

The dungeon was a dark place with only the few occasional torches providing some light. It had a horrible odour and was very cold, it was hard to blame Dorv for being so cruel for being in a place like this every day and night.

They stood in front of them, heads bowed towards the ground, trying their best not to shiver.

There were a few moments of silence and then the young woman spoke, "Dorv, leave us, your services are no longer required at the moment."

They could hear Dorv shuffle away from them, his footfalls slowly fading out of hearing range.

"These men were appointed by longer as members of both Lord Gilbert's household and when he was residing here he made them apart of my household, correct?" The Lady spoke, her voice lacking any emotion.

"They were originally apart of lord Gilbert's Household at his home, the RedFall however when you traveled abroad he brought them here with him and slowly began replacing Redrun's household with his own. Ser Rollick your fathers master-at-arms was shortly replaced with Ser Gregir a man who had served Lord gilbert for many years and so on and so forth, he also brought more servants to spy on the other lords and to do his bidding, my lady," Maester Liwin said, his voice wary.

He had not expected Lady Everra to treat lord Gilbert and his family so, he wanted to minimise the amount of bloodshed.

"Is this true my lords?" Everra asked, both Lord Yullian and Lord Edwin nodded and after a few moments she addressed the prisoners, "Did any of you know of Lord Gilbert's plan? Do any of you know who supplied him with the poison that was intended for me?"

They all shook their heads and kept their heads bowed, too frightened to speak.

Everra sighed softly, "If the person or people who assisted Lord Gilbert come forward now, I will grant them a quick death . Fail to come forth and I'll have to bring you all in for questioningand when I discover who assisted lord Gilbert with his treachery, they will receive the same treatment as his accomplice."

No one said a word, they all stood there, hearts beating wildly in their chests, two men shifted uneasily and quickly glanced at each other, hoping that the women had not noticed. Unfortunately for them, she did.

"Step forward," She commanded, gesturing towards the two of them. They did so slowly and with their bodies trembling.

"What did Lord Gilbert promise you in turn for your assistance in my murder, hmm? Gold, lands, what did he promise you?"

One of the men spoke, his voice pleading, " My lady please, you must understand-"

"Must I?"

The man quickly realised his error and tried again, 'He promised us some gold my lady, but he never said who he wanted the poison for, all we did is find it and bring it too him."

Everra raised a long elegant eyebrow and spoke, "You're telling me that the both of you went and found some of the most rare poison in all of Westeros for a few gold dragons and you did not know whom it was for?"

Both of the men looked at her pleadingly, eyes begging "My lady _please-_ "

"Enough of your begging," she commanded. she glanced towards Lord Yullian and Lord Edwin, her green eyes assessing them, "Lord Yulian, Lord Edwin, what would you do if you were in my place?"

They both turned to look at her, Lord Edwin with curiosity and Lord Yullian with caution. Finally, Lord Edwin spoke "My lady, they claim not to have known about whom Lord Gilbert was planning to murder, however, they were still planning on helping him murder someone, even if they thought it was not you," Lord Edwin looked at her directly in the eye for a few moments and then glanced back towards the pitiful pair, " I think you have already decided what to do with them."

Everra nodded, whether it was in agreement of his judgement or that he was right, that she had already decided what had to be done with them, no one knew, what they did know was that they would no longer have twenty prisoners in a few short moments.

"You're a smart man, Lord Edwin, quite smart indeed," Everra said, eyes trained on the two men in front of her, she let out a small sigh and said, "Kneel."

The men whimpered but slowly sank down t their knees, tears streaming down their face. Everra stepped towards them and gently placed her hands on one of the man's neck and quickly snapped his neck upward with a sick _crack_ and watched with a passive look on her face as the man fell to the ground, lifeless. She repeated the actions with the second man and gestured towards the guards,

"Well, go one, take the bodies and bury them somewhere."

Each guard dragged a lifeless body away from the group, leaving them with the other eighteen prisoners. She regarded them closely, slowly strolling up and down the line of prisoners. Finally, she turned towards Lord Edwin, Lord Yullian and Maester Luwin and said, "My lords, Maester Liwin, if you would all be so kind as to wait for me in my study, I have some private matters to discuss with the prisoners."

They all nodded, looking slightly curious as to what 'private matters' she wished to discuss with the prisoners, but they slowly walked away, until their footsteps echoes out of earshot. Everra turned to Ser Daavos,"Unshackle them."

All the prisoners snapped their heads up in shock and glanced at each other, hope rushing to their hearts. Everra noticed this and raised an eyebrow saying, "Believe it or not, I do not kill innocent people for no apparent reason."

For some reason their cheeks warmed at this, as they looked once again at the ground with… shame? They did not know, they were just too glad to be alive.

"However, even though I am to going to execute you, you are all relieved of your services to my house, but, I do have jobs for all of you too do. It will be dangerous and life threatening and I will need your absolute trust and loyalty if you choose to do accept my offer, " she glanced at them all, her green eyes piercing them with their intensity," If you have any doubts now, I suggest you leave at this moment. I will only tell you what this job holds only if you are sure. If you wish to leave RedRun now, no one will stop you,"she paused looking at them.

No one moved and she stood there almost expectantly as if already knowing that none of them would have left. A small satisfied look graced her face but only for a brief moment, before it went back to its usual blankness.

"None of you have any doubts? Good. Lets begin." She clapped her hands together and Andromache came up next too her, rubbing her face against Everra's legs.

"There are eighteen of you, eight of you will go to Kings landing, you will be given a new identity before you go there, you will no longer be whoever you are right now. You will become whomever I wish you too be. The eight of you will go to kings landing you will find positions in the castle, whether it be a squire to a knight or some other position, I do not care, as long as you are not caught. I will be expecting information from all of you every week, you will write down everything you see or hear that you feel may be of some sort of importance. Do you all understand?" She paused, glaring at them. they all nodded feverishly and she looked somewhat impressed. She continued on, " From the eight that I chose to go to Kings landing you will go straight to the stables and ask for YoungBird, he will lead you all separately to your respective horses where you will each find a bag filled with water and bread and 10 gold dragons with fifteen silver stags along with pieces of parchment with instructions. You will learn these instructions word for word, do I make myself clear? I assume you all know how to read and write?" she asked. They nodded slightly, looking slightly overwhelmed.

Everra looked slightly amused and muttered to Ser Daavos, who had just finished unshackling the prisoners, "Lord Gilbert may have been a greedy bastard but at least he recognised the importance of literacy." Ser Daavos snorted slightly and returned to Everra's side.

"Everyone understands what I'm instructing you to do?" she didn't wait for a response, "Good. As long as you are in my service, you will be paid for and provided for accordingly. When I am in no longer in need of your services, you will be rewarded. In return for your payment you must serve me well and remember, if any one of you are ever tempted to sell me out, remember this, whatever their price or reward, I'll beat it."

There was a moment of silence after this declaration. Everyone knew that there was no turning back after this.

"Ser Daavos, escort eight of whomever you chose to the exit of the dungeons to ride for Kings Landing. Oh and remember, ride out at nightfall and try to be as discreet as possible whilst you are leaving and if any of you try to escape with the money and ride off to gods know where, I will find you, I will find whoever you hold dear to your heart and I will chop off their heads and send them to you then I will cut off all your fingers and then your hands and I will keep on cutting until you will no longer be recognisable as a human being, do I make myself clear?"

They all nodded again and Ser Daavos shoved eight men in to a line and lead them to the entrance of the dungeons.

"As for the rest of you, come with me." Everra grabbed a torch from one of the handles on the wall and started to stride further into the darkness of the dungeons.

If anyone thought that the Bloodlands themselves were something to be avoided, then they should have seen how so many people feared and dreaded the dungeons of RedRun. The dungeons were specifically designed so they let no light or warmth travel to the cells and the cells were so small and cramped you were unable to sit down so you had to stand for hours upon hours until they finally released or executed you. It was a cruel place for cruel people.

Everra finally reached the end of the dungeons and stood in front of a stone wall, the light of the torch highlighting her striking features. the prisoners -no _spies-_ stood there in confusion. They had reached a dead end, with no door or window or someone in sight.

Everra must have noticed their confused expressions so she glanced behind them, making sure no one was following them. She couldn't take any risks with anyone discovering her secrets. She then turned her back towards them and gently placed her head against the stone wall and started tapping at it with her hands, util finally she felt what she was looking for and pushed at stone, until it finally gave way and revealed a tunnel behind it.

The spies could not hold in their gasps of surprise, no one would have guessed that there was a secret tunnel behind the stone walls. Everra turned to face them again and rolled her eyes at their astonishment, "Yes, yes I know how exciting, a secret tunnel!' she said dismissively, she had not time for this.

"This tunnel will lead you all directly to the blood mountains. As long as you keep on going straight you all should get there fine."

'My lady," one of the men spoke out tentatively, "May I ask what awaits us there?" He cringed, almost as if expecting her to kill him on the spot.

'I think the better question would be _who_ is waiting for you there," she replied, handing the torch over to one of the men.

"Everyone, there will be 15,500 soldiers waiting for you there. Majority of them do not speak the common tongue fluently, so when you get there say ' Tubi daor' and ask to see Stormer. Stormer will then give you set of things to do and you will do it without question. I expect to see each and every one of you once every two weeks. You will give me progress reports on everything and everyone and when you come here there will be supplies and messaged I expect you to deliver, so expect many trips back and forth," Everra paused for a moment and then said something that made everyones heart grow cold with fear, "If any one of you dares to tell anyone that they are in the blood mountains or anything about what you have been doing….. I will not be responsible for the pain it causes you and your loved ones, do I make myself clear?" They all nodded and muttered 'my lady'.

"Good, now you best get going, so all of you into the tunnel, come on!' She commanded and once they all past through the door she muttered, "Good luck to all of you. Now whatever you do, whatever path you come across, you keep on going straight," Everra then slowly began to close the secret passage and their faces slowly disappeared from view.

She stood there for a few moments, allowing her hand to rest on the wall. Everything was slowly coming into place, she couldn't afford anyone finding out what she was doing.

"My lady?" Ser Daavos asked, voice slightly concerned.

"Has everything gone well?" She questioned, voice stiff.

"Just as we planned, my lady."

At that, Everra let out a small sigh of relief but she did not let it consume her, there was still so much work to be done.

"Come now, Daavos, we've kept the Lords waiting for far too long wouldn't you say?"

* * *

And with that, she turned on her heel, Andromache and Ser Daavos trailing behind her as they walked through the darkened dungeon. As they passed Dorv who had at some point come back to the dungeons, he looked at them, slightly gobsmacked as to where the prisoners had gone. Everra turned towards Ser Daavos and held her palms out expectantly. Ser Daavos in turn tossed her poach filled with coins which she tossed to Dorv, who clutched it greedily to his chest.

"Not a word to anyone," she muttered and brushed past him, ignoring his mutterings of 'thank you m'lady and 'f 'course'.

Her study was a large room, with a grand wooden table in the centre, with another wooden desk towards the corner of the room, next to the windows. Books were scattered across bookshelves and letters and scrolls were stacked on top of the table. Chests were stacked on the floor underneath the table. Lord Yullian, Lord Edwin and Maester Liwin were standing near the entrance in silence, patiently waiting for her. They had not noticed that she was at the doorway until they hear Andromache growl at Lord Edwin whose hand had been resting against the table.

They snapped their heads up to look at her and Everra noticed Maester Liwin scanning her body for any signs of blood. She snapped at him, irritated, " Maester Liwin, contrary to popular belief I do not go around killing innocent people for my own personal amusement, Maester. You would be wise to remember that."

There was no mistaking the warning in her voice. Maester Liwin shifted uncomfortably and stared at the ground, hands clasped together tightly.

"My lady may I ask why we have been summoned to your personal study?" Lord Edwin drawled out, sounding bored.

Everra snapped her eyes towards him, regarding him closely. She remembered him from when she was younger, he never did like her father but he had been close to her mother, she remembered that much from her childhood. He had been kind towards them both, but he never tried to stop her father from-

"My lady?" Lord Edwin asked, eyebrows drawn together. It was then that Everra realised that she had been staring at him, lost in thought.

"Apologies my lord. As to why I have asked you all to come here it would seem that we have some important matters to discuss. Please have a seat, all of you."

They all went and sat down around the large wooden table, Everra taking her place at the head. Andromache had settled herself next to Everra's feet and Ser Daavos stood behind her.

"It would seem that due to Lord Gilbert's recent…. dismissal, we are in need of new members of the household. A new Master-At-Arms and a new Master- of Horse's and so on and so forth. I, have not been here for a good ten years and even though I had been regularly updated as to the wellbeing of my home and lands it would seem that I had not been updated as to the loyalty of my household and lords, as proven in recent events. Seeing as you three have been most loyal to me, my father and my mother, I am asking of you all to give me recommendations as too whom shall be granted the titles I previously mentioned," she paused, looking at all of them directly in the eye, "I realise that this is much to ask for from all of you but troubling times are upon us and I have other important matters I need to prepare for."

Lord Yullian's face broke out into a smile, "Of course we can help you my lady! We have all always been loyal to you and your family! I will set out to find a list of candidates at once!" He exclaimed happily, rising from his seat in excitement.

"Yes, you do that," Everra said, almost feeling slightly amused. Lord Yullian was a fool, but a harmless one at that. He quickly exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Lord Edwin rolled his eyes at the mans foolishness and Maester Liwin looked slightly suspicious, he did not know this woman sitting in front of him, she left a victim and an orphan and came back a killer and a manipulator, almost like her father except she was more cold and withdrawn whilst her father was someone who took pleasure in the pain of others. What was the saying? Like father like daughter?

He spoke out voice firm, " My lady, what troubling times do you speak of?"

Everra glanced at him and folded her hands in her lap, "Winter is coming, and with Winter comes death, Maester Liwin."

They were all silent for a few moments after this declaration, Everra's words and its meaning echoing in their minds. "Maester Liwin, if you want or need anything, come to me directly. You are one of the main reasons, if not the main reason, that I am still alive today. I haven't forgotten."

Despite the sentimental and grateful words that Everra had just spoken, her eyes were still cold and unfeeling, for a fleeting moment Master Liwin wondered what her mother would have thought of her now. He rose from his chair and bowed his head in respect, "Thank you, my lady, for your generous offer. I was merely stopping a horrendous crime from taking place."

"Yes and I thank you for stopping it."

Lord Edwin rose from his seat as well, "My lady, I will do as you wish. Good day to you."

"Likewise, my lord."

Then they both hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Everra and Ser Daavos were left in silence for a few moments, until he left his post behind her and came to sat next to her.

"You knew what Lord Gilbert was planning all along didn't you?" Ser Daavos asked, voice in slight awe. Everra lifted her head and turned to look at him, looking almost amused.

"Of course I knew what he was planning! Do I strike you as someone who is stupid enough to trust someone like Lord Gilbert?" her voice indifferent, as though she did not just reveal that she had been fully aware of the plot against her from the beginning.

"But then Maester Liwin didn't….?

She looked at him, voice slightly irritated. "No Maester Liwin did not in fact truly save my life. I made it so that Maester Liwin happened to 'accidentally' find out about the plot and then I waited to see whether or not he would tell me. Lets call it a test of loyalty."

Ser Daavos still looked slightly shocked but then considered something, "What about the other Lords, Lord Edwin and Lord Yullian? Aren't you suspicious of where their true loyalties lie?"

Everra raised an eyebrow at this, "I've already done so for Lord Yullian, and Lord Edwin well lets just say that we reached an understanding with each other many years ago, Ser Daavos."

Ser Daavos frowned at this and hated himself for feeling slightly jealous of the man. Everra rose from her chair and grabbed one of the chests and lifted it onto the table. She grabbed the letters and scrolls and pushed them towards the side and opened the chest, spreading a large map across the table and then emptied the landmarks from the chest and placed them on the map, placing the chest back onto the ground.

"How am I supposed to help a boy whom I've only dreamed about win this war. A war that he lost because of his unrealistic ideals," Everra looked almost vulnerable for a moment before catching herself.

Ser Daavos looked at her with a gentleness that Everra knew she didn't deserve, "You have a solid plan and good motives. You are one of the most talented warriors in the world and one of the greatest strategists-"

"I know what I am and what I'm not. I may know what _could_ have happened to the Starks but I don't know what _will_ happen. I haven't treated you the way you deserve," she looked him the eyes, her own eyes had not lost their coldness though. She still felt empty inside, even if it was Daavos she was speaking too, she couldn't make herself _feel_ anymore not for him, not for anyone. She couldn't even make herself feel guilty for being the way she was and for hurting him, she just couldn't.

No matter how hard she tried, she really was her father's daughter.

She averted her eyes from his and looked back at the map, thinking of the path ahead. it wouldn't be easy, blood would be spilt, but she would make sure that she kept her promise.

Now, she just needed to make sure that no one knew her true motives for helping the Starks.

 **A/N I was not pleased with this chapter, but it had too be done. thank you too everyone who favourited and reviewed it means a lot too me. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, tell me what you think!**

 **Guest, in response to your review Everra is a very cold character and she's not your typical protagonist she kinds of more like an anti-hero. She is very damaged as you see in this chapter and she's almost like stone. Just to make something clear to all readers now actually, its not guaranteed that Robb and Everra will be together in the romantic sense. Lets just say that they will be together in some ways but not in others.**

 **tHANKS AGAIN!**


	6. Chapter 5: If death were a person

Chapter 5

"My lady, are you sure that this is the wisest option?" Ser Daavos asked, voice laced with doubt.

They had spent the past several hours revising plans and answering letters that came from Tyrells, Baratheons, Arryns, Martells and many others, all of which welcomed her home. _And here I thought I was not missed_ she mused whilst reading each letter. Everra snapped her gaze towards his and said flippantly, "Yes I am quite sure, send the raven to tell Laria to sent the package to Magister Illyrio, tell him that I send my apologies and congratulations."

"Congratulations?" Ser Daavos could never quite tell what she was up too. She was like fog, it blinded you and confused you but occasionally it let you glimpse the path ahead. Unfortunately for him, it would probably show him the path too late and would let him fall off the cliff in his confusion.

"Yes congratulations.." She noticed his confused expression and her mouth curled up slightly at the sides,"You'll find out sooner or later."

They carried on answering and writing letters in silence, the only sound in the room was Andromache licking her paws. As Everra reached for another letter, Ser Daavos asked something that had been bothering him for many months, "My lady why are you helping the Starks?"

Everra's hand paused mid air and she brought her hand back to her lap, lacing it with the other. She diverted her gaze from his, and looked as though she was deciding something. Mistaking her silence for having upset her, Ser Daavos quickly spoke, "My lady, my apologies I did not mean to offend you-"

"You have not offended me, Daavos you have merely made me realise something," she said as softly as her voice could go. Everra knew that this question would come, she had just not prepared an answer for it. She hated it, not being prepared for something. Of all the years that she had been alive she had always prepared herself for everything, every question, every lie, every betrayal….. She hated not being prepared, it almost made her feel like a child again and gods know that she didn't want to feel like that.

She looked at him, her gaze lingering on his face and sighed softly, "To be perfectly honest Ser Daavos, I have no idea."

They both dropped the matter and continued on answering letters until the sun went down and it was time for supper. But they both knew she was lying. She knew why she was helping the Starks, she just wouldn't tell him. Wouldn't tell anyone for that matter. She wouldn't even fully admit it to herself.

She just wasn't ready.

* * *

Everra stood by the window, relishing in the feeling of the wind against her face. The moon was high up in the sky, not a cloud in sight. Her hair was tied in a loose braid and her white nightdress clung to her skin. It was late, all signs of life from the castle had gone. There were the few occasional guards but other than that everything was quiet, peaceful almost.

Everra hadn't been able to sleep,not that she slept well usually, when she was younger she used to be plagued with night terrors about monsters now, she only saw her that it was her guilt that was making her see them, she didn't cry out her apologies for killing them and they didn't ask for one. They all just stood there, arms opened as if preparing to hug her. Lord Gilbert, his son, his wife and gods know how many had slept by her feat and when she noticed that she couldn't sleep, she had laid her head across her mistresses's stomach in an attempt for comfort. Everra didn't know what this feeling was. Fear? Anxiety? Annoyance? Dread? She didn't know but she knew she didn't like it. But she didn't like anything that actually made her feel something, she preferred her usual numbness, it made things a lot less complicated.

Everra side and turned around, pacing. If she slept she dreamt of the dead, if she was awake she was reminded of the dead, _It seems I just can't escape death. What was it they said ? If Death were a person, she would be it._ Everra lay down on her bed again, feeling restless. Andromache purred softly and rubbed her head against Everra's stomach.

Everra stayed there for a few moments, but sleep wouldn't come to her. Frustrated, she kept out of bed and shrugged on a robe and made her way to the door. Maybe if she got some air she would finally be able to go to sleep.

Everra stopped slightly and turned around to look at Andromache who had leaped out of bed after her. Everra almost smiled down at the panther, whom she cared about more than anyone or anything since her mother died when she was four.

She shifted her fingers in front of her and gently tapped her side saying, "Follow me." And Andromache did, as usual. As Everra exited her room she decided to go up the stairs to the top of the tower. She hadn't been there since she was four and for good reason.

She shut her eyes and willed the sight out of her mind. No matter how much time had gone by, her mother was still a sore spot for her. But her mother was just a pile of bones now and Everra had never managed to forgive her mother for it.

As Everra stepped out onto the top of the tower, she immediately felt the wind blowing through her hair and could feel the coolness of the stone beneath her feet, not that it affected her anymore. As her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, she noticed that there someone else atop of the tower with her. She walked towards him, his back facing her but she knew whom it was, she just hadn't thought after all this time…

When she finally stood next to him, she leaned forward against the battlements and looked forward. Everything seemed so small, you felt so powerful standing here, you felt as though yo could see until the end of the world, could see everything happening all at once. It was no wonder why everyone in her father and his father before that and before that had been such power-hungry bastards.

"I did not expect you to come here," the man said, his voice cool but you could here the waver of emotion in his voice. Everra scanned his face briefly and looked up at the stars thinking that if maybe she had been different she would have been able to appreciate their beauty.

"Neither did I, Lord Edwin."

The man let out a sigh and tugged his fur cloak closer to him, struggling to keep warm. When he noticed her lack of warm clothing he almost spoke out before it dawned on him, she couldn't feel the cold anymore. He grimaced at the thought of what happened to make her that way and quickly apologised, "If its any consolation, I am sorry for what-"

"Don't," She spoke, the emptiness in her voice made him wonder if she was really alive. Her heart really is made out of stone, he realised. It made him regret not doing what they did sooner.

"I loved her you know, very much." He mean it too.

Everra let out a small sigh and tilted her neck to look at him briefly and then snapped her eyes forward, "I know you did, so did I incase you have forgotten."

The words were said with a hint of… loss. Lord Edwin sighed and ran one of his hands across his face, "There is a war coming, isn't there?"

When he didn't get a reply he continued on, "I can feel it. Its going to change everything isn't it?"

When she nodded slightly he walked beside her and sighed, "I don't suppose you will be telling me anything about it?" Again she shook her head, keeping her gaze towards the stars. Lord Edwin raised a hand to place on her shoulder but stopped mid air at the pointed look she gave him.

She stepped around him and made her way towards the door, not in the mood to have this specific conversation, "She wouldn't have wanted this you know! She would have wanted you to be happy," he called out after her.

Everra stopped mid-step and tilted her neck slightly towards the side and said, "Do yourself a favour Lord Edwin and never mention my mother in front of me ever again."

She strode out of sight, leaving the man alone with only his thoughts for company. Bitterness and grief pounded through his veins, until he almost felt like throwing himself off the battlements just like her.

* * *

Everra shielded away from the light from her window and turn onto her side, trying to go back to sleep. She slowly became aware of another person in the room and with her eyes still closed spoke out, "Whoever you are, you better have a good reason for being in my chambers at this hour."

Anna let out a small shriek and Everra could hear a small clatter as something fell onto the floor. Everra propped herself on her elbows and observed as Anna kneeled on the ground, quickly picking up the dress she had dropped.

"Apologies, my lady. I did not mean to- to- wake you," Anna stammered, quickly rising to her feet, fear evident in her voice.

"No need for apologies Anna, I had already woken." Everra slowly climbed out of bed and rubbed at her eyes, trying to get the mental image of Robb Stark with a dire wolf for a head out of her mind.

"Did you sleep well my lady?" Anna asked, quickly maneuvering around Andromache's large body on the floor to start fixing her bed. Everra looked back at her from where she was standing, "No not very well unfortunately."

"I could get a remedy from Maester Liwin if you'd like my lady."

"No, thats fine thank you."

Everra turned around and stared at the girl, frowning. Anna noticed her gaze on her and tried to hide her shiver of fear, "My lady is something amiss?" Her voice was small and wary, she had witnessed the recent 'dismissal' of Lord Gilbert. She did not know how much like her father Lady Everra was, but she prayed that she wasn't. Anna had seen firsthand Lady Everra's fathers mood swings…. many people had not ended up unscathed, her mother being one of them.

"Nothing," Everra spoke softly and turned to face her mirror. She had black circles around her eyes, making her emerald green orbs look as dark as the colour of her hair. Her hair had come loose from its braid and hung in loose curls around her.

"I was thinking that you could wear the dark blue dress today, my lady. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes, yes it fine," Everra replied indifferently and walked towards the centre of the room

After Everra had finished getting dressed, she noticed that Anna was walking stiffly and with a slight limp and could see a purple bruise fading from around her eye.

She leaned froward and gingerly tilted Anna's head upwards and frowned when she saw red marks around her neck. She noticed that Anna flinched the moment she played hands on her and Everra quickly snatched her hand back in realisation. But before she could question Anna about it, a servant knocked on the door calling out, "My lady, may I enter?"

"Yes, you may."

Anna had turned her face downwards in order to avoid Everra's questioning gaze because unlike many of the other servants who had looked upon her with empathy and pity, Everra's eyes were cold and unfeeling but they had hardened with… anger? Annoyance? Anna did not know, nor did she plan to find out.

The servant gently pushed the door open and shielded away from Andromache who was sleeping close to the door, noticing Everra's expression, he nervously tugged at his sleeves with his head facing the ground and said, "My lady, master Liwin asks for your presence in the dinner hall, he says that is incredibly urgent."

Everra nodded slightly and waved at the boy to get out, which he did glanced back at Anna and her gaze hardened slightly as cold fury crept into her heart, hardening it even more, "Stay here until I return. Understood?"

Anna nodded meekly and didn't raise her eyes to meet hers. Everra did not turn around to see Anna's reaction, she was already halfway out the door with Andromache following beside her.

* * *

"You asked for me, Maester?"

Everra strode quickly down the hall towards the table were Maester Liwin was sitting, two servants were scrubbing at the floor roughly, trying desperately to remove the stain of blood from the floor. She stopped where she stood as suddenly a rush of images of her stabbing Lord Gilbert's wife ferociously. She remembered how when she had finally calmed down her corpse had been so mangled that she had not looked human anymore. Everra ignored how the entire hall had gone quiet at the sight of her, how everyone had gone silent and terrified. She didn't particularly blame them. She would be scared of her too, as a matter of fact, she used to be afraid of herself too.

Eventually she realised that she was standing there in the middle of the hall, staring into nothing and quickly made her way down, sidestepping the two servants on the floor.

"My lady," Maester Liwin muttered and rose from his seat.

"Maester no need for pleasantries, you said it was urgent." Everra was not in the mood for delays.

"My lady a raven was sent from Kings Landing. The hand of the King has recently passed on and the King rides for Winterfell."

"I'll send my condolences to the King at once, Maetser thank you." Everra turned on her heel and just as she was about to walk out of the hall Maester Liwin called out "My lady wait! There is more."

Everra turned around expectantly, raising an eyebrow, "Well."

Maester Liwin shifted uneasily, "The King expects you to join them at Winterfell."

Everra nodded slightly and felt a wave of satisfaction run through her body, everything was going as planned. She noticed Maester Liwin's suspicious gaze and quickly said, "Well we'll start to prepare to leave at once."

As they busied themselves with plans for the journey, Everra noticed Ser Daavos enter the hall and caught his eye and mouthed 'Daor'. His eyes widened slightly and he suddenly looked grim.

The rise of the young wolf was approaching.

 **A/N Hello Everyone! Tried to update as quickly as I could, sorry its a short chapter though! Thank you to all of you who favourited and reviewed and followed, it really means a lot too me. So Everra is finally going to meet the Stark family and not just see them in her dreams. I was debating whether or not to do it in Robb or Everra's POV, I couldn't decide. Tell me what you think! oh and if everyone forgot why Everra can't get cold anymore its because her father left her in the snow for a few days straight in nothing but her nightdress.**

 **Jafcbutterfly (, in response to your question on whether or not Everra will have a love interest (thank you for your review), I can't say no but I can't 100 percent say yes either. I mean there will be kissing and stuff in this story but this isn't a story of how Everra and (whoever) fell in love with each other and everything was sunshine and unicorns.**

 **Thanks again! Tell me your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 6: Eliminating your demons

Chapter 6

 **Disclaimer I own nothing! Everything belongs to George R.R. Martin and the creators of the show. I only own the original characters.**

 **Warning! There is sensitive material in this chapter! Also this story is unedited, please try to ignore the mistakes**

" _Promise me, little Eve," the woman said smiling and gently laced her pinky finger with the little girl. The little girl smiled and started up at the woman, whose smile did not reach her eyes. You could hear a man yelling from outside the room and could hear banging on the door and roars of drunken laughter outside. The mother looked worriedly at the door and quickly pushed the little girl under the bed, "No matter what you hear, little Eve, promise me," The woman said forcefully and gripped the little girls hand tightly. Tears sprung in the little girl's green eyes as her heart quickened with fear, "I-I- p-p-romise, Mother." The mother nodded slightly and quickly kissed the girls hand and then shoved it under the bed and pressed a finger to her lips, urging the young girl to be quiet. Suddenly the mothers head morphed into a young man's as he cried out 'mother' and then a knife slowly entered his chest and he slumped to the floor, lifeless. A cry of grief and anguish filled with the air along with the screaming of a child. Everything was morphing into one-_

Everra woke up with a start, slightly panting. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she placed a hand over her heart, trying to calm it down. She glanced over at Anna, whom was still fast asleep with her neck titled upwards, her mouth opened slightly. She could hear the sound of the horses moving from outside the wheelhouse. They had been on there way to Winterfell for a week, with only a little less of day of riding to go. Everra could feel something rising in her chest every time she thought about them getting closer and closer to Winterfell. It almost made her want to turn back around, pack her things and return to Essos as fast as possible. Almost.

She glanced at Anna again and frowned at the sight of the fading red marks around her neck. She had been jumpy and frightful all throughout their trip and when she thought Everra would not notice, tears streamed down her face as she muffled her sobs against her hands. Everra did notice though, she noticed almost everything. Everra felt something akin to sympathy towards the girl, truly she did, but she knew that she wasn't feeling sympathy towards Anna as she was towards the memory of her moth-

Everra closed her eyes painfully and willed the image out of her mind. Slowly, slowly, she felt the coldness creep its way back into her heart as she finally came back to her usual self. Everra glanced around the rather large wheelhouse and frowned in annoyance. She hated the wretched thing, if it hadn't been for keeping up appearances she would have burned the bloody thing to the ground.

Suddenly, she could feel the wheelhouse coming to a stop. She frowned slightly and quickly stood up and reached for the door, swinging it open. She peered out of the door and called out, "Why have we stooped?"

They were in the middle of the road, with nothing but trees surrounding them. The sun was still out and there was not a house in sight.

"My lady the men were in need of a slight rest for a few moments…" the guard trailed off at the cold expression on her face.

Everra replied cooly, "And so you decide to take a rest, without giving me any warning and decide to do so in the middle of the road where thieves and rapists can attack us at any given moment with not a village or an inn in sight."

The guard puffed his chest outwards slightly and said, "My lady if you are doubting our ability to protect you-"

"I am not doubting your ability to protect me, I am doubting your intelligence or perhaps the existence of it."

The man flushed slightly in embarrassment and diverted his gaze from hers, his pride wounded. Everra could feel herself growing annoyed at the man and clenched her fists tightly, "Tell the rest of the men to get a move on, at this rate I'll be grey headed and barren before we arrive at Winterfell."

Then she promptly shut the door and sat down in her seat, still clenching her fists. She glanced sideways and noticed that Anna had woken and was currently rubbing at her eyes, trying to remove the redness surrounding them.

"My lady, is all well?" Anna asked, her voice small.

Everra regarded the girl carefully and felt a twinge of anger pierce her heart, not at Anna but at the man who had done this to her. The wheelhouse finally started to pull forward and she glanced the annoyance leave her.

"As well as anything can be at the moment it would seem Anna."

Everra's gaze softened so slightly that Anna could not tell. Anna reminded Everra of someone she once knew and at the thought of her Everra's gaze quickly hardened as she turned away from the young handmaiden and harshly told her to go back to sleep.

Everra did not have the time to deal with the ghosts of the past, she had too many deal with in the present.

* * *

"My lady, did you ever think that the King has summoned you to Winterfell so he could command you to marry the stark boy?" Ser Daavos asked.

Everra stopped pouring the wine into her cup and quickly placed the wine onto the table and turned around to face him.

They had stopped at an inn for the night, so the men and the horses could rest and Everra had payed the innkeeper to give her and Ser Daavos a private room so they could eat and discuss the plans.

"Yes I have thought of that before," she replied softly, breaking the silence. She walked back towards her chair, cup in hand and sat on it, bringing her knees up to her chest and biting her lower lip.

"And how do you plant to stop that from happening, if it happens."

Everra snorted slightly and looked directly into his eyes and sighed, "Lets just say that Lord Eddard Stark will not agree to me marrying his son." She said this as though she was mocking Lord Stark.

Ser Daavos frowned slightly and protested, "My lady why wouldn't he? You come from one of the most wealthiest families in the whole of Westeros and Essos and you're… you're beautiful." His voice trailed off slightly at the end and his cheeks warmed.

Everra however, did not seem to notice her companions embarrassment and replied in her usual cool manner, "I also happen to be the daughter of one of the cruelest men in the history of Westeros and according to many rumours, I also happen to be following in his footsteps. My father despised him and believe me the feeling was mutual."

Curiosity filled Ser Daavos eyes at her statement. Everra never mentioned anything about her father except the occasional 'Oh yes, I mourn for him still, thank you for your kindness' if anyone who had known him apologised to her for his unfortunate and brutal demise.

She hadn't spoken to him about how her father had died and the one time he asked she had only sighed and said, 'Thats a story for another time, perhaps maybe one day I'll tell you it, but not anytime soon'. He had dropped it and never brought it up ever again over the past few years, though there had been times when he was tempted.

Everra noticed his curiosity and felt very tempted to roll her eyes but simply settled for waving her hand dismissively and said, "There is nothing very exciting about it. They simply met and disliked one another. My father was probably too much of a viscous bastard and lord Eddard was probably too honourable for my father to be able to stand in the same room as him," noticing Ser Daavos's slightly disappointed expression she added, "There is nothing more to it."

 _If only he knew,_ she thought to herself bitterly.

They sat there for a few more moments in silence until Ser Daavos cleared his thought, "My lady, fatherly dislike aside wouldn't it be more… convenient for you to be married to the Stark boy?"

Everra's lips turned slightly as took a large gulp of her wine, she looked as though she was considering something briefly and then said, " I thought about it for a while but then I realised, it wouldn't work, I'd be under the constant eye of both my husband and his mother and I'd have nowhere to put my army and I'd lose my home and believe it or not I don't ever plan on losing it. Besides I do not exactly fit the usual characteristics of a Stark do I?" The last part was said almost playfully but it fell on dead ears.

"It wouldn't work. I'd end up dead, Daavos if I married him, besides if everything is to go as planned, Robb will marry the Frey girl and I will marry the man we discussed."

It was final, Everra would _not_ be marrying Robb Stark but Ser Daavos had a sneaky suspicion that there was another reason that she wouldn't marry him, she just wouldn't tell him, as usual.

* * *

"Why is your mother so dead set on us getting prissied for the king?" Jon said, voice tinted with annoyance.

"Not only for the King but for the Queen as well," Theon added, "but also for Lady Everra Legrath, lady of the Bloodlands," Theon said wishfully, sighing sightly.

Jon and Robb just chuckled at him, amused, "Is there any woman you meet or hear of that you do not lust over Theon," Robb said, his voice amused.

Theon scowled slightly and protested furiously, "But this isn't _any_ woman, I've heard rumours that say she is the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros. Even more beautiful than the queen herself," he added thoughtfully and then a look of shock crossed his face.

Robb would have laughed at his friends lustful tendencies if it hadn't been for Tommy shaving his cheek.

"Do you think that the King summoned her to Winterfell so he could execute her?"

Robb snapped his face towards him, eyes widening with confusion, as did Jon's, "Execute her? Why?"

Now he'd turned to face his friend completely, Tommy forgotten.

Theon smirked arrogantly and said, "Well now she is interesting ain't she?"

Jon and Robb scowled at him and urged him to continue. Theon bent down slightly and whispered rather loudly, "On her first night home she executed when of her Lords. Well slaughtered I should say, him and his family, wife and children and all. People are already calling it 'The Blood Feast' it was so brutal."

Jon frowned slightly and muttered, "Well I pity the man who gets stuck with her."

Theon heard this and sneered, "Well its not like you'd have a chance with her, now would you bastard?"

Jon snapped his head up and glared at Theon, feeling slightly stung.

"Hey, hey hey, calm down the both of you," Robb snapped. It always annoyed him when they fought.

The mood was tense and quiet until Robb stood up and tugged Jon towards Tommy, quipping, "Go on Tommy, chip him good, he has never met a girl he likes more than his own hair."

Theon laughed at this and Jon grumbled slightly, but even he was smiling. But deep, deep, down, Robb had felt something tighten in his stomach at the mention of Lady Everra's name. He felt slightly intrigued by her. He remembered when he was younger that whenever his father would mention anything about the Legraths his face would tighten with anger and he would speak with a bitterness that he had not known his father possessed. Deep down in his heart of hearts Robb knew somehow that he would be seeing a lot more of Everra Legrath. When Robb looked back on this moment many months later, he would chuckle with bitterness and amusement at that severe understatement.

* * *

"My lady which dress do you wish to wear?" Anna asked placing two dresses on the bed, " The black and red one or the green?"

"The green one for when we arrive and the black and red one for the feast." Everra called out from the bath and gently splashed some water onto her face.

"My, its very beautiful my lady, are you-" Anna flushed slightly, "Sorry my lady, its not my place to ask."

'No your right its not, but you were already asking anyway so go on."

Anna stiffened slightly and sighed, " Are you planning on finding a suitor when we arrive at Winterfell my lady?"

Surprising both of them, Everra let out a loud a chuckle. The chuckle slowly turned into mad laughter and Anna turned around to stare at her gobsmacked.

"My lady?' Anna asked slightly concerned.

"I'm sorry!" Everra managed to get out between her laughter. It wasn't happy laughter though, it was bitter and cold and it sent a chill down Anna's spine.

Everra finally calmed down and looked up at her from the bath and shook her head, "No I have no intentions of finding a suitor."

 _No I just plan on helping a boy I've never met win the war of the five kings and he doesn't even know he is going to be in it._

Anna made a faint sound of acknowledgment and placed the black and red dress back into the chest. Everra climbed out of the bath and pulled the tie from her hair, allowing the long black locks to tumble down to her waist. She reached for her robe and slipped it on, wrapping it together at the waist.

Everra regarded the Anna closely and sighed, striding over to the nightstand and yanked it open grabbing one of knives and gripping it in her palm.

Everra stood there looking at Anna contemplating whether to not to give it to her.

"Anna," she called out softly, Anna turned around and peered at her, frowning slightly, "My lady?"

"Come here," Everra said. Anna felt her stomach tighten slightly and shivered slightly, gripping her elbows. Last time someone had told her to come to them she had ended up being ra-

Anna winced painfully and wiped at her eyes which had suddenly brimmed with tears. She gulped loudly and glanced at Everra who had been watching her with a detached expression, twirling the knife in her hands.

"I'm only going to ask you this once," Everra stared at her with a blank expression, not a single drop of sympathy or concern on her face, "Were you raped?"

Anna let out a sound halfway between a gasp and a sob and clutched her chest, her heart limp and fragilein her chest and she slumped down on the floor, sobbing, tears streaming down her face.

Everra stood there for a few moments and then slowly walked up to the sobbing girl on the floor, kneeling down in front of her.

Everra's eyebrows knitted together as she scrutinised the sobbing girl on the floor. Everra did not feel anything towards her, she did not particularly care for her or like her, she barely tolerated her but then again she barely tolerated most people, but she knew that Anna was a… person with feelings and who did good things. She wasn't like her, in any way shape or form. Perhaps it was time to change that.

"Hey, look at me," she said forcefully to the girl but Anna did not seem to have heard her. Anna felt as though her heart was slowly getting ripped out of her chest and she kept on sobbing, she did not think she could ever stop.

" Look at me!" Everra said again with more aggression and gripped her face forcefully, tilting it up to look at her and force Anna to look her in the eye, "Listen to me, what happened to you… happened. It's over now. It's done. That man raped you, " Everra said calmly and emotionlessly and continued on, "He took what he wanted from you and he enjoyed it. He enjoyed breaking you."

Anna whimpered slightly and tried to divert her eyes from Everra's with little success, "Do not let him win."

Anna stared at her in confusion, mouth opening slightly, "Emotions are weakness. Crush them. Forget them. Otherwise they will swallow you whole and take everything you are with it. He tried to break you, but you must be stronger that that. _Do not_ let him win. Brace yourself. You cannot afford to be weak. Thats not an option. I will not have a handmaiden who flinches every time someone accidentally touches them. Take those emotions that he made you feel and _crush_ them. "

Everra rose from the floor and offered her her hand which continued to hold the knife, "But," she continued, " sometimes people can't steel themselves against their demons," she gently placed the knife into Anna's palm, " sometimes its better for them to eliminate them altogether."

Then she swiftly turned away from the girl and strode over to the dress laid out for her, leaving Anna alone in her shock. Anna stared down at the knife thoughtfully and gripped it tightly in her palm. She suddenly felt a burst of strength fill her bones and she slowly but surely rose from the floor, still gripping the knife in her palm. She shoved the knife into the sleeve of her dress and wiped at her eyes, missing Everra's nod of approval at her actions.

* * *

"Very good, " Everra muttered approvingly. Anna nodded enthusiastically and clapped her hands together, her lifelessness forgotten.

"You look beautiful my lady!"

Everra glanced at herself in the mirror again and felt satisfied at her appearance. Her dress was a dark green at the sides with gold in the all the way down the middle embroidered with dark green floral patterns. The sleeves of her dress were also tinted gold and hung down on her arm. The dress accentuated all of her clothes and showed a hint of her bust. The upper half of her raven locks had been clipped back and a circlet headpiece graced her forehead with a lone emerald in the middle.

Everra had always known that she was attractive, she had used her looks to her advantage in the past the moment she realised that one of a man's greatest weakness is his cock.

There was a large knock on the door and Ser Daavos called out, "My lady?"

"Enter!"

As soon as Ser Daavos opened the door, Andromache burst into the room and quickly leaped towards Everra and she bent down and petted her. Ser Daavos looked annoyingly at the panther and cleared his throat to speak but then he got a proper look at Everra and looked rather speechless.

Everra glanced back at him and motioned for Anna to leave, "Send in a servant to get my chests to the wheelhouse."

"Yes my lady."

Anna quickly scurried out of the room and shut the door behind her, leaving the two of them in silence.

Everra raised an eyebrow at the man in front of her and said, "Ser Daavos? There was something you wished to discuss with me?"

Daavos snapped out of his gaze and his cheeks flushed slightly. He cleared his throat and said, "My lady you asked me to send for you when the men were ready to leave."

Everra nodded slightly and glanced around the room. "This is it, I suppose then. The start of a war."

Everra looked at him closely and asked, "Do you think I should just end it before it begins."

Ser Davvos looked at her in shock and sputtered, "My-la-dy?"

Everra repeated herself, "do you think I should stop this war from happening? A better person would. A kinder person. A person who wasn't a monster."

Ser Daavos opened his mouth in protest but Everra waved him off, "I know what I am perfectly well Daavos. I've done monstrous things in my life. Things that would cause most people to agonise over them every night and to kill themselves out of guilt and disgust."

"But your not most people," Ser Daavos said.

"But I'm not most people," Everra agreed. "You know I think thats why they- whoever they is- told me about it. About all of it. They knew that I would do anything to win this war. Sacrifice anything, kill anyone, do anything. My first priority has always been to survive, to do whatever it takes even if it meant losing myself piece by piece," Everra trailed off and looked at him directly in the eye, her eyes not showing a hint of emotion.

Daavos felt slightly confused as to why Everra was telling him this. She had never…. done _this_ before. He wasn't even sure what _this_ was.

"You are probably wondering why I am telling you this, aren't you?" Everra asked and didn't wait for his answer.

"I am telling you this because I want to prepare you." At his bewildered expression Everra continued on, " I am not the kind of person who has personal attachments. Never have been, never will be. I have learned to not invest myself in that kind of thing. But you haven't." Everra looked down at their feet and linked her hands together.

"This war…. many people will die. I will look many of my soldiers in the eye and tell them to go die for me and I won't feel guilty about it. I won't feel guilty about any of it. This day, I will look a boy of ten in the eye and pretend that I do not know that he will be a cripple in a few short days and I will still sleep like a babe. But you won't. The guilt will fill you up inside until there is nothing of you left."

Everra took a step towards him and looked him in the eye, " I need your reassurance that you will not let emotions get in the way of our mission."

Ser Daavos felt flabbergasted. Never, not once had she asked him of this or doubted him. At least she had never voiced these doubts aloud. He loved her with all of his being and he would do anything for her. If she asked him to cut off all his fingers, he would do it in a heartbeat.

And so he looked her directly in the eye and swore that he would not let his emotions get in the way.

Everra did not look pleased or relieved, she didn't show any emotion at all at his declaration all she did was nod briefly and say, "Good. Now tell the men to prepare themselves we are leaving in a few moments."

Ser Daavos moved past her and headed for the door and as he reached it and was about to open it, her voice stopped him, "Daavos you have proved yourself to be a… friend and I am…. grateful for your companionship over these past few years. But if you _ever_ breathe a word of anything to anyone I will kill you without a second thought."

Ser Daavos stood there for a few moments and tried to pretend as though she had not just ripped his heart in half.

"Go now, the men are waiting for you," she commanded.

Ser Daavos felt himself nod and he swung the door open and quickly left the room, trying to keep his emotions in check. He leaned against the wall and sunk down to the floor, scrapping a hand over his face, his grey eyes troubled.

Call him a simpleton or a mad man, but he could not give up on her or stop loving her even if he tried. Even if he wanted too. He had to keep on trying, to keep on being there by her side even if she didn't need him because that was what love was, being there for someone through thick and thin, even if they do threaten to kill you.

With that, he rose to his feet and continued down the hall, ignoring the loud moans and groans and shrieks of laughter echoing from the other rooms. He ignored the suggestive looks he got from the whores and continued on his way, trying to get the voice that kept on saying _'I will kill you'_ out of his mind.

* * *

"The King is going to be here any moment now, where is your sister?" Catelyn whispered furiously to Sansa who shrugged indifferently.

Robb muffled his chuckle and kept his eyes on the ground, not in the mood for his mother to glare at him. He heard Jon chuckling from behind him and held back a smile, Arya had always been uncontrollable.

Arya suddenly came bustling in front of them with a helmet on her head and his father reached out to grab her arm, bringing her movements with an abrupt stop.

"Hey hey hey hey, what you doing with this on?" His father asked sternly and lifted it off her head, ending the helmet to a nearby guard. He shook his head at her, looking faintly amused, "Get on."

Arya hurried off next to Sansa and shoved Bran to the side, "Move," she demanded furiously and stood next to her.

Robb could hear the distant sound of the horses hooves and took a deep breath, feeling strangely nervous. He frowned slightly and willed the nervous fluttering out of his gut. His eyes darted towards the gate of Winterfell as he realised that the royal party had started to flood through the gates. First a few guards came through and then a boy of similar age as him came through on his horse, his golden hair standing out from his pale skin and his face twisted with an arrogant sneer as he stared intently at something next to Robb. Robb glanced out of the corner of his eye at Sansa whose blue eyes were focused directly on the golden haired prince.

Robb felt a twinge of disgust in his stomach, he had heard that Prince Joffrey was a right royal prick, he did not want his sister to be stuck with him, prince or not.

"Where's the imp?" Arya asked Sansa.

Sansa turned to face her little sister and snapped, "Would you shut up?"

Arya rolled her eyes in annoyance at her sister and scanned her eyes across the royal party, looking for 'the imp'.

Then came the King with his Kingsguard, Robb had heard stories of the King and how he was a great warrior whom had defeated Rhaegar Targareyn at the battle of the Trident and who had rebelled against the throne but now he was a shell of his old self. Drunken, red faced and fat, with a black beard covering most of his face, Robb pitied the black horse beneath him.

"Robb!" Arya whispered. He looked over at his sister, her grey eyes peering up at him in frustration, "Where is Everra Legarth? Father promised that she would be here, where is she? I've heard she has a black panther, I don't know its name though, but she is like our family with our dirwolves and-"

" _Shut up_!" Sansa snapped.

Arya fell silent as did the rest of the courtyard as the royal party came to a stop. They all simultaneously sunk down on their knees and bowed their heads in respect to the King. Robb could hear the King dismount his horse and could hear his heavy footsteps make their way towards them.

There was a moment of silence as King Robert stood in front of his old friend Lord Eddard Stark and he motioned for them all to rise.

"Your grace," Ned muttered and they all rose. Robert looked up and down at Ned and said, "You've gotten fat."

Everyone glanced at each other warily, a king usually did not address his lords in such a manner.

Ned did not look concerned or offended and simply glanced meaningfully down at Roberts stomach and they both burst out into laughter and hugged each other, clapping each others backs.

"Nine years, why haven't I see you?" Robert asked.

"I've been guarding the north for you, your grace, Winterfell is yours."

Robert chuckled slightly and reached over to hug Catelyn and kiss her cheek, leaving her looking flustered, "Cat!". He bent down and ruffled Rickon's hair and turned to Robb, "You must be Robb?" he asked him and he nodded slightly, shaking the Kings outstretched hand. He moved on to Sansa and the Arya, then Bran.

The queen approached them from her wheelhouse and looked around distastefully. She was a beautiful woman, with beautiful golden hair which her children had taken after her and pale creamy skin, with green eyes and thin pink lips which were pulled into a forced smile.

Queen Cersei offered Ned her hand and he bent down to kiss it and she simply nodded in acknowledgement at the rest of them. _I guess all the rumours about the Queen were true,_ Robb thought to himself and found himself looking for the other guest, Lady Everra.

As if the King could read his mind, he turned to Ned, asking "Where is the Legrath girl?"

Ned simply shrugged and said, "I suppose she must have been help up n the road, your grace."

Queen Cersei let out a scoff and snapped, "She must be punished for her rudeness my love-"

Robert turned to her, his face thunderous, "I'm not going to punish her for being held up on the road, you-" He caught himself in his anger and took a deep breath muttering, "Your father would like that wouldn't he."

Queen Cersei's face tightened and for a moment Robb thought they were going to start screaming at each other but stopped at the distant sound of horses approaching the gates of Winterfell. Everyone turned towards the gate as a new wave of guards came flooding through. The Queen moved next to the King and the rest of the royal children assembled beside their mother whom was standing next to the King.

As the guards approached, a handsome man atop of a white horse seemed to be scanning the crowd, in search of something and when his eyes landed on his he did a double take and then quickly diverted his eyes to the King. Robb shook off the feeling of uneasiness he got from the man and cleared his mind. His heart was pounding in anticipation and he could hear Arya clap her hands excitedly and he could have smiled at his little sister if he had not been so nervous.

The wheelhouse came to an abrupt stop and the air was tense, you could cut through the tension with a knife. Robb could hear the pounding of his heart in his ear and could feel his hands sweating inside his gloves.

The man whom was on the white horse approached the door of the wheelhouse and Robb's heart rose in his throat and he gulped loudly, ignoring the questioning look he got from Sansa and could feel Theon poke his back and whisper, "My gods, she best be least pretty."

This did nothing t calm Robbs nerves and tried his best to mask his was frustrated with himself, he had no clue as to why he felt so nervous. He had tried to think of something as he lay in bed last night, unable to sleep. Something had occurred to him yesterday which made him nervous, what if his father planned to wed him to this Everra girl? He knew he would have to wed one day, as his responsibility as the future of Lord of Winterfell he knew he had to marry someone, he just…. felt nervous. He felt like a simpleton, he might not even have to marry this girl.

At the sound of the door of the wheelhouse opening he snapped out of his thoughts and brought his attention towards the wheelhouse. The air was thick with anticipation and when the door of the wheelhouse finally opened Robbs heart rose in his throat but to his surprise and everyone else's as a sleek large black panther leapt out of the wheelhouse. He saw his mother and father share a wary look. A plain looking handmaiden gingerly exited the wheelhouse, her eyes widening with wonder as she took in the castle. Her mouth opened slightly as she realised that the King and Queen were there and she quickly shuffled out of the way, bowing her head.

And then the most attractive woman he had ever seen in his lifetime stepped out of the wheelhouse.

He felt Theon let out a whistle and nudge his back, whispering "Gods be good she is more than pretty."

She had long raven coloured locks that reached her waist and the upper half was pinned back, she had full pink lips and the dress she was wearing showed off her ample chest and her curves. She had the most intriguing eyes he had ever seen, they were a beautiful emerald green colour with black lashes framing them but unlike the Queen's whom at least had a look of dictate in them, her eyes were cold and hardened, like they were glass. She assessed the crowd for a moment and her eyes scanned over the crowd and for a brief moment, which was so short Robb thought he imagined it for the longest time, her eyes widened a fraction when hey landed on him and just as he had deemed it impossible, her eyes drew colder.

Swalling his nerves, Robb straightened his back and kept his emotions off his face and looked her directly in the eye. He was not going to be made a fool of by this woman, he wouldn't allow himself to be deemed as weak to a woman he barely knew.

Lady Everra's mouth seemed to twist in slight approval at his actions and he would have given anything at that moment to have known what she was thinking. Little did he know he would be thinking that a lot over the next few years.

She strode towards the King and Queen, her head held high and even though Robb had never spoken to her in his entire life, he knew that she was not someone to have as an enemy. Her panther was quick to follow her mistress and the man with blonder hair also followed, standing a good distance behind her but close enough to shield her if need be.

She knelt in front of the King and Queen and spoke loudly, voice firm and clear, no waver of fear in her voice, "Your grace my sincerest apologies for being so late. I hope you can forgive my rudeness."

There were a few moments and silence and Robb noticed to his disgust that the King was looking right down her dress. He vaguely heard Arya gasp at the sight of the panther and yank at Sansa's hand who quickly ripped it away from her and returned to staring at the Prince.

"No need for apologies my lady, rise," The King commanded and so she did, all the while her gaze unwavering. She turned her attention towards the queen and curtsied and the queen put an obviously forced smile on her face.

"Welcome, Lady Everra its a pleasure to meet you, " the queen spoke with fake sincerity.

Lady Everra nodded slightly, "Thank you for your kindness your grace."

The King rolled his eyes and snorted and quickly tugged her into a hug. She didn't look fazed by this, almost as if she had been expecting something like it but kept her arms at her side. The King pulled away from her and scanned her up and down, his eyes lingering a moment too long at her breasts but she seemed to take no notice at least if she did, she did not show it.

"You look just like your father! His eyes, his face but your hair, I'm assuming thats your mothers?" She nodded slightly and he continued on, " I knew your father, liked him too, he helped me win the war!Did he tell you that?"

"Yes your grace, he spoke of it often and very fondly," she replied, her voice cool.

"By the gods, " the King muttered and scanned her face again, drinking her in, "You are more beautiful than my wife and she's supposed to be the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms!" Everyone tensed at this and Lady Everra protested slightly, "Your grace the queen is the mo-"

"Ain't she Ned?" The King said, turning around to face his friend who had suddenly become quite solemn. He was unaware of the tension he caused and the humiliation he caused his wife.

Robb continued to watch in silent earnest at the exchange, not knowing that this would be one of the last days of his normality.

* * *

As Everra stared into Ned Starks grey eyes, she felt a twinge of anger in her heart and could feel her rage begin to spread around her body but she quickly quelled it, she was not here for the ghosts of the past.

She could feel the Queens glare at the side of her face and could feel her cold fury radiating off of her. She felt both Roberts and Joffreys lustful gazes and felt almost tempted to snap both of their necks, gods know it would save everyone a lot of trouble.

"Yes, you are very beautiful my lady, any man would be lucky to have you," Ned Stark replied stiffly and she curtsied.

"Thank you for your compliments Lord Stark, I am most grateful," she replied cooly.

The King stared back and forth at the pair and seemed to take notice of the tension and quickly said, "Now that we have gotten the formalities out of the way, I would like to pay my respects at the crypts."

Ned turned to stare at his old friend and felt a rush of gratitude towards him for remembering. Everra took a small step away from the King and Andromache nuzzled her head against her upper thigh. She gently laid her hand on the top of her head and stroked it slightly.

The Queen quickly protested at her husband actions, " My love we have just arrived surely the dead can wait."

The king turned to stare at his wife for a moment and looked at her with such distaste that Everra almost pitied her. Almost. The king turned around and stalked away from the group, Lord Stark guiding him.

Everra turned to face the rest of the group and quickly identified them, Catelyn with Rickon to her left, then Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran. For a split second, when her eyes met Catleyns, her scream of grief and anguish echoed through her mind and she relived the brief memory of watching Lady Catelyn's throat get cut to the bone.

She turned towards Rickon and took a step towards him,, "What is your name?"

The small boy turned towards his mother and she nodded at him, he turned towards her again and smiled shyly, "Rickon Stark."

She nodded slighltly and said, "You can call me Lady Everra." She forced a small smile onto her face but it had no warmth or friendliness and Rickon quickly buried his face in his mothers skirts. Everra did not particularly care, she had always been bad with children, even when she was one.

She turned towards Lady Catelyn and felt the familiar twinge of anger pierce her heart and she felt tempted to curl her hands into fists, "Lady Catleyn," she said, voice cold.

The older woman's blue eyes met hers and she replied, "Lady Everra, what a pleasure it is to have you here at WinterFell, I hope you enjoy your stay here, " she put a smile on her face, but it did not match the guarded look in her yes.

"Thank you, Lady Catelyn your kindness is truly touching, " she said this in a manner that could have sounded insulting if it hadn't been for the usual iciness in her voice. Everra quickly turned away from the older woman's gaze, stepping towards Robb.

"Forgive me my lord, you must be Robb correct?"

Robb nodded, his blue eyes were cool and held their own against her stare and she felt a slight rush of approval. _There's the young wolf I know_ she thought.

"You are correct Lady Everra, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," he replied, his voice strong and clear.

She nodded slightly and turned away from him. He was a handsome man, even she admitted it, with his mothers traditionally Tully looks, his curly auburn hair and clear blue eyes he was quite attractive. Too bad it did not make much of a difference to her. She greeted Sansa and found herself feeling rather amused at the girl's obvious jealously towards her for temporarily stealing the prince's attention. Everra could have laughed at the irony.

As Everra reached Arya she noticed the girls poorly disappointed expression and after she finished asking her name she found herself asking, "What is the matter Lady Arya?"

Arya snapped her eyes towards hers and her cheeks warmed, "Well you're not what I expected-"

"Arya!" Lady Catelyn cried out, appalled at her daughters manners. Everra turned her attention towards her for a moment and said, "No its alright, no harm has been done."

Lady Catelyn backed down and cast a worried glance towards the pair worriedly, she knew that Lady Everra was not someone to insult.

Everra raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

The girls cheeks turned a bright red and she glared at her furiosuly, "Well you were supposed to be this great warrior who had done all these amazing things and who rode into the battle on the back of her giant panther but now your just another ordinary girl."

Everra regarded the girl closely and sighed, "Well I'm afraid that one of those things are false, I do not ride into battle on top of Andromache's back I believe that would be quite uncomfortable for the both of us."

As if sensing that they were talking about her, Andromache purred sightly and nuzzled her head against her upper thigh. Arya looked on in excitement and looked eager too touch her, "I suggest you do not attempt to pet her if I'm not around, she will bite of your hand. She's not much of a fan of anyone but myself."

Arya deflated slightly and looked at the ground embarrassed, Everra took notice of her dejected expression and said, "I'm going to offer you some advice little one," she bent down slightly to look her directly in the eye and said, "Never be what others expect of you, that way you can always surprise them. Predictability is dangerous."

And with that, she turned away from the girl, repeating the same actions with Bran as she had done with the others and as he answered her questions with innocence only a child could have, Everra felt Daavos stiffen behind her slightly and she almost sighed. When the introductions were over, she glanced back at Daavos and let out a breath she had not known she was holding.

The war of the five kings had officially begun.

 **A/N OMG that was the longest thing I have ever written in my entire life and I hope you all enjoyed it. Thank you for all of you who favourited and reviewed and followed, it really means a lot too me. I reallyy hope you guys like Everra's development this chapter and the introduction of the Starks. If you have any questions or complaints please let me know. And for all of you who were wondering about whether or not there is a massive possibility of a Robb/Everra romance….. yes and no. I will say this again, there is going to be some romance in the story as a matter of fact there will be a lot of kissing and stuff in the story but I can not confirm or deny couples. That would almost be like me telling you guys the entire plot, even though some of the couples might be obvious.**

 **Please review! Thanks again!**

 **Until next time! :)**


	8. Chapter 7: Corpses and Smiling

Chapter 7

 _A little girl is sitting on her mothers lap, bouncing excitedly. It is a beautiful day, the sun high in the sky, not a cloud in sight. They are sitting on a patch of bright green grass,a rare spot amongst the red stone, a blanket lies beneath them. The little girl is giggling excitedly and the mother is smiling, a rare sight. "Shhh, calm down sweet one." There are a few similarities between the two, the mothers eyes a light brown whilst's her child's an emerald green. The child's skin is pale and smooth and the mothers is tan but with fading bruises around her eyes and neck. But none of this matters today, only smiles and laughter no crying and screaming. The only similarity between the two is the raven coloured hair upon their heads, the mothers is tied back in a loose braid whilst her child's hangs freely down her shoulders. The mother looks as though she could have been quite beautiful had it not been for the bruises adorning her face. The mother playfully starts to tickles the young child and they both erupt into a fit of giggles._

" _Oh my precious little Eve, so beautiful you are even when you are so young," The mother cooed and starting to run her fingers through her daughters hair. The little girl sobers at this slightly and turns to face her mother, her green eyes widening innocently, "Do you really think so, father said I'd never be able to find a husband with my looks-"_

" _Do not listen to him, Everra, you are too young to worry about such things. You will find a handsome husband who will love and adore you until the day he dies." Everra pauses at this and opens her mouth to ask something and then closes it quickly. She may have been young and innocent but she was a smart girl, she knew that her parents did not have a loving marriage, she knew that her father did to her mother was bad, she just hadn't known anything else._

" _Have you ever been in love mother?" The girl asked, her voice small. Her mother never talked much about her past and whenever she had asked about it her mother would just become more sad and distant and Everra would quickly change the subject, not wanting her mother to be even more sad._

 _Noticing how her mother tensed up and diverted her eyes from hers, Everra knew she had asked a question that made mother sad and she didn't want that, especially when the day was going so well. She hugged her mother and said, "I love you more than anyone Mother, " her voice was muffled from where her head was nuzzled against her mothers neck. Her mother rubbed her back slowly and stared to hum, as the little girl started to doze off she said, "I love you more than anyone too my sweet Little Eve."_

"My lady, my lady?" Anna called out, gently touching her shoulder. Everra snapped her head to look at her and snapped, "What is it?"

Anna shrunk back slightly and looked at her nervously. " My lady the feast starts in a few hours or so, we must start to prepare, if we are going to be on time."

Everra almost wrinkled her nose in distaste as she remembered who was planned to escort her to the feast hall. Theon Greyjoy. As she had mentioned many times before, there was many things in this world she tolerated, treachery not being one of them and as Roose Bolton so eloquently put it, the Greyjoys were treacherous whores.

"Alright, go fetch some bathing water, I will start to undress," she commanded and Anna nodded her head silently, hurrying out of the room. Andromache let out a loud pur and Everra turned to look at her. She was lying on Everra's bed, snuggling into the large furs on it. Everra was not looking forward to sleeping in that bed, she could suffocate from the heat the furs would make.

After the King and Lord Eddard disappeared towards into the crypts, the group slowly dispersed, Bran and Arya excusing themselves quickly and dragging Rickon a long with them, giggling. Then Robb, Jon and Theon stood there rather awkwardly and with a sharp and distasteful look from Lady Catelyn , Jon quickly hurried away from the group. A bastard was not suitable in the presence of the Queen and a lady. As everyone was slowly escorted to there respective chambers Lady Catelyn noticed that Everra had no cloak or furs on her and was simply standing there wearing a dress, a thick dress at that, but still only a dress. She had almost scolded her like a child and quickly exclaimed, "My lady are you not cold! You must be freezing ."

Everra had turned to look at her coldly and answered her stiffly, "I appreciate your concern my lady, but I don't get cold." At this, Lady Catelyn looked slightly confused and suspicious but she quickly dropped the subject, eager to get her to her chambers as fast as possible without having to speak to the younger woman.

Everra reached back behind her and started to undo the laces on the dress, she released the hair tie from her hair, allowing it too tumble down her back to her waist. Her dress fell in a pile on the floor and she stepped out of the pool of her dress and walked towards her nightstand. She removed her shoes and placed them next to her bed, then bent over and removed her knives from their usual hiding spots. Placing her knives and hair tie on the nightstand she carefully stepped over one of her chests and made her way to the fireplace and started to stoke the fire. She bent down in front of the fire and leaned forward, trying to catch some of its heat. Not that she needed it, it was just a habit she had picked up over the years.

She could hear the barking and growling of the dire wolves from outside. She could hear Andromache stir and growl slightly before calming down. Everra turned away from the fire and went to sit on the bed, thinking of the days events. She turned to face Andromache and petted her lightly on the head. She peered up at her, her green eyes squinting at her and Everra sighed softly.

"I think its fair don't you think, what I'm doing?" She said to Andromache and she in turn let out a small purr and placed her head in her mistresses lap.

Everra's lips curled up slightly at the sides and she rubbed her hand against Andromache's head.

Everra started to hum softly, it was a familiar tune. She didn't know many songs and the one's she did know her mother had taught her years ago.

Everra heard Anna open the door whilst carrying a large bucket of steaming water and she immediately stopped humming. Anna stumbled over behind the bathing screen towards the bath and poured the steaming water into it and thankfully placed the heavy bucket on the ground. She emerged from behind the bathing screen and rested against the stone wall, panting.

Everra raised an eyebrow at her and they stared at each other in silence. She stood up from the bed and wiped her hands against her underdress.

"Well if you are done recuperating after that very hard excursion, I'll begin to bathe and you can do what I have you here for," Everra said and stood behind the bathing screen, lifting her nightdress over her head and flinging it behind her.

Everra could hear Anna shuffling around the room and could hear the familiar opening of one of her chests.

"My lady you wish to wear the dress we discussed earlier correct?" Anna called out.

"That is correct," Everra responded cooly. Everra started to think about what would happen at the feast. She knew that certain things had to happen at the right time and moment just like how it could have happened. Her thoughts shifted on to the boy Bran and how Ser Daavos had reacted to him. She knew that Ser Daavos was a lot unlike her in many ways, especially emotionally but she had.. hoped that emotions would not affect. She did not wish to kill him, but she would if she had too. Sometimes terrible things had to happen in order to achieve something, she just wanted Daavos to understand that and Robb too when the time came.

Shaking the thoughts out of her head, Everra ducked under the water. Everything had to happen according to plan, somethings had to play out as usual and until all those things had finally played out, she would just have to wait patiently.

* * *

Robb finished lacing up his doublet, his large fingers carefully holding the laces. After he finally finished lacing it after his umpteenth attempt he smiled in triumph and turned towards Greywind whom was staring up at him, his head tilted sideways.

Robb opened his mouth but quickly closed it at the sound of someone knocking on the door.

"Robb?" Ned asked through the door.

Robb felt immediately curious as to his fathers visit. Last he saw him he had been escorting the King to the crypts. He knew the King had once been planned to wed his late Aunt Lyanna, she had been why he started the rebellion in the first place.

"You can come in," he called back and Greywind ran to his side. He turned to face his father whom had just entered the room and closed the door shut.

His father looked incredibly tired and worn in a way Robb had never seen him. _The King must have_ _asked him to be Hand of the king_ , he realised and his eyes widened slightly. He had been suspicious as to why the King had traveled all the way to Winterfell after the previous Hand, Jon Arryn passed, he just did not know whether or not his father had accepted the position. If he did, it meant that he would be acting Lord of Winterfell, Robb gulped slightly and fear raced towards his heart but with a fierce determination to make both his father and mother proud if his father accepted.

Noticing Robb expression, Ned's face turned even more serious but also had a proud glint in his eye, "I see you've realised the situation, " he said, voice quiet.

Robb nodded slightly and diverted his eyes from his father's piercing grey ones.

Ned moved to sit on Robb's bed and motioned for him to come sit next to him, which he did quickly.

Ned placed his hand on Robb's shoulder and looked directly into his eyes and said fiercely but gently, "If I am too accept the Kings offer, it would mean that you would become acting Lord of Winterfell until my passing," he paused for a moment, then continued on, "I know that you will make me and your mother very proud."

Robb looked slightly relieved and nervous, he knew that was not the end of it.

"You have recently turned ten and eight and as part of your responsibilities as Lord of Winterfell you will have to find a wife. "

Robb's heart started to pound furiously in his chest and he could feel his hands start to sweat. He knew that this would happen one day but that did not mean that he was not nervous at all but he knew that this would have happened sooner or later.

Ned had paused for a few moments after noticing Robb's nervous expression and continued on after he saw the acceptance on his face and with a fierce rush of love for his eldest child, he continued on, "The King has recently asked me if I could wed you too the Lady Everra Legrath, Lady of the Bloodlands," he regarded Robb carefully and asked, "What do you think of her?"

Robb pictured her in his mind for a moment and after a few moments of consideration he answered, "I think she is a very beautiful girl, whom comes from rich and powerful family…." he trailed off and his father raised his eyebrows, "But?"

Robb turned to look at him and said, "Since you asked for my honest opinion father I will give it too you. She is too cold and unfeeling and I've heard of how cruel and ruthless she is capable of being. I know it is my duty as future Lord of Winterfell to marry and I will marry her if that is what you wish."

Ned felt a rush of proudness fill his heart and he said, "I refused the Kings suggestion."

Robb turned to him, wide eyed, "Why? She would have been a respectable match-"

Ned interrupted him mid sentence, "I knew her father. Not very well but I saw the monstrous things he had done. Ways that are not our way. I do not know what he did to her, I do not want too see its lasting effects, more specifically, I do not want you or your future children to either."

With that, Ned rose from the bed and headed towards the door and he reached it, he turned his head back to look at him and said, "You best be ready soon, you are expected to escort Princess Myrcella to the feast." Then he left him to his own thoughts.

Robb half attempted to stand up but then quickly sat back down, still feeling slightly shocked. His mind flipped through the past few minutes, eager to catch on to anything. He was filled with curiosity towards Lady Everra and now he felt … regretful for judging her for her coldness. What did he know what she had been through? But he had a feeling despite his father's excuses, that there was a lot more to the story than he was letting on.

* * *

"You look very beautiful my lady," Anna said stiffly and smiled briefly; though it did not reach her eyes. Everra diverted her eyes from her reflection and turned to stare at the girl, she was standing there uncomfortably and had a haunted look in her eye. Everra felt a rush of annoyance towards the girl and snapped, "What is wrong this time? Because I am _not_ going to do that whole bonding experience with you ever again. Its a miracle I did it once actually."

Anna turned to stare at her, wide eyed. She fiddled with her hands for a few moments before managing to whisper, "He's here."

Everra's eyebrows rose and she turned back to look at the mirror, " Well you know what to do." She had done her part, now it was up to Anna.

Anna stared at her, mouth wide open and stammered out, "M-m-y Lady I thought that you um could-"

"Could do what? What did you think i was going to do? Protect you until the day I die? You fight your own battles, Anna. I am not going to do it for you. "

Anna frowned slightly and started to look rather emotional, " But-but you were _kind_ to me earlier-"

Everra's eyebrows rose to the top of her forehead and she muttered under her breath, "Kind? I've never heard that one before."

Noticing that Anna was on the verge of tears, her green eyes narrowed at her and she snapped, " Look, I gave you advice, it is up to you on what to do with what happened to you was horrible and very traumatic believe me I understand that more than you think. But I do not particularly care what you do or do not decide to do. Whatever you do end up doing though, just do not get caught."

Anna felt a tear slip down her cheek and quickly wiped at it and straightened her shoulders. She hated herself for thinking that maybe just maybe she actually cared. She felt a rush of hatred and hurt rush in her veins as she stared at the raven haired woman before her. She swallowed it down though and cleared her throat, "Well then, I'll leave you now my lady." And with that she walked briskly out of the room, eager to not let her see her cry.

Everra felt rather indifferent towards the girls reaction and carefully assessed her appearance. The upper part of her hair had been braided at the sides and pinned back with beautiful ruby coloured hairpins that were actually knives. Anna had looked at her worriedly when she presented them to her.

Her dress had a plunging neckline that gave a glimpse of her cleavage and a long black necklace with star shaped diamonds hung off it. Her dress was black at the sleeves and at the sides of her waist and up to her shoulders, going around her back but the part that covered her breasts, stomach, knees, thighs and feet was red with embroidered floral designs. The dress also had a hood with red dyed fur.

Andromache peered up at her from her place by the fire where she had moved herself and Everra shook her head at her, "I'm sorry Andromache but you are not allowed to accompany me." Andromache let out something that sounded an awful lot like a grunt and turned her attention towards the dying fire.

Everra patted each of her arms lightly and was reassured by the outward shape of the knife.

There was a sudden knock on the door and Everra slowly walked towards it, fully expecting to see Theon Greyjoys lustful expression but she was rather surprised that it was not Theon awaiting her outside the door.

* * *

Robb felt slightly anxious as Princess Myrcella clutched onto his arm and could feel the eyes of everyone in the room one them. He noticed that Myrcella would always send him looks of longing when she thought he was not looking and it made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Not that Myrcella was not pretty, she was very much so but she was younger than Sansa. In an attempt to avoid her longing gaze, he assessed the feast hall. His mother had gone full out as was expected for a royal visit, it had been decorated beautifully. With the tables covered in various golden plates and flowers and candles with wreathes of pine intertwined around the pillars surrounding them.

In front of them had been Prince or should he say prick Joffrey and Sansa; she had gone a bright pink the moment she had stepped within a foot of the princes presence. He remembered how Arya had compared her to the colour of a pig and then how she had complained at having to be paired with Prince Tommen.

The King and Queen had already taken there spots at the head of the room, with his mother and father standing next to them. There table was nearby with the boys and girls slightly separated. His eyes widened slightly as he spotted Theon in the crowd, _If he was here then who was escorting Lady Everra?_ He wondered to himself. Noticing his expression, Theon mouthed _I'll explain later._ Robb nodded slightly and peered to look at his mother whom had a worried frown upon he face and was biting her lower lip, he blue eyes tightened with worry. She too seemed to notice Theon's presence.

The Queen however looked rather satisfied about something, her lips were curled into a triumphant smirk which she attempted to mask, but failed at spectacularly.

As they finally took their respective seats, King Robert began his speech and thanked them or their hospitality and whatnot. Robb blocked out the droning sound of the Kings voice which had already started slur and began to the scan the room for Lady Everra, he had told his father that he did not particularly wish to marry her, but that did not mean he was not intrigued by her.

As the King finally finished his speech everyone erupted into applause but were quickly silenced at the sound of the door to the feast hall opening. Everyones head turned to stare at the unlikely pair and the room suddenly erupted into whispers. Robb himself was slightly shocked and confused at the sight: Jon and Lady Everra.

Lady Everra looked even more beautiful than earlier in the day with her red and black dress which brought out her eyes. Robb noted that she did not seem particularly bothered by the whispers, at least if she was she did not show it, not that she was expressing any emotion as she stared everyone down, her green's cold and calculating. Jon looked particularly embarrassed at the stares and the whispers and was staring at the ground, trying to divert eye contact. He probably noticed his mothers hateful and thunderous expression. As he was looking at his mother, he missed how his father stiffened and shifted uncomfortably where he stood.

"Well then! Glad of you to join us!" The King called out, his face a dark red from his drinking.

As the pair stopped in front of the King, Lady Everra untangled her arm from Jon's and he snatched his arm to his side quickly. Robb noticed that her eyebrows flicked up slightly and she turned to face the King, her face cool and relaxed.

"My sincerest apologies, your grace, it would seem that there was a misunderstanding, please forgive me for my tardiness," She said calmly but Robb noticed how her eyes had flickered over to the Queens for a split second. Not that the Queen noticed of course, she seemed to be relishing her attempt -which she thought to be successful- at humiliating her. Robb thought that the Queen was a nasty piece of work but was also not very observant as Lady Everra did not look the least bit humiliated at being escorted by Jon.

The King let out a loud laugh and waved her off and she calmly took her seat where as Jon bowed slightly and hurriedly left the room, eager to escape the glare of his step mother. Robb felt a pang of frustration at his mother; she had always treated Jon horribly because of what he represented to her; proof of his father being unfaithful. Robb just wished that she would understand that Jon had no choice in whom is parents were. Not that he knew his mother anyway.

Soon after the grand entrance, the room started to fill with laughter and chatter and music. Everyone was eating and drinking, tension soon forgotten. As soon as everyone had taken their attention of Lady Everra and towards drinking, Theon had told him what had happened. It had been as he suspected, the Queen had meddled with everything.

The Queen seemed to be intelligent to an extent and was incredibly powerful but she was viscous, quick tempered and proud- to the point of being arrogant beyond reason. Robb could not help but think that those qualities would be her end.

* * *

Everra glanced around the room, deciding when to the leave the hall for some 'air'. The King had disappeared along with Lord Eddard and she could see the King's large golden crown, standing out against the crowd. He was eagerly downing his drink and currently had a large serving girl in between his legs and was currently gripping her behind. Everra felt a cold twinge of disgust; he reminded her of a less cruel version of her father.

She could feel the Queen bristle at the sight of her husband and the serving girl and Lady Catelyn attempted to distract her from the sight, "Is this the first time in the north your grace?"

The Queen responded cooly, "Yes, lovely country." They fell into a awkward silence after that and after a few moment the Queen turned to face her, "I have been wondering as to why you have returned from your travels?" She questioned her.

Everra turned to face her and responded cooly, " I always planned to return one day and when I reached ten and seven I knew it was time to return home and eventually find a husband, your grace."

The Queen nodded but still had a suspicious gleam in her eye, Lady Catelyn looked worriedly between the two, not liking the tension.

The Queens face turned into an expression of fake sympathy and she said, "Yes I understand why you must have left. With your father and mother dying and with no other family, it must have been incredibly difficult for you."

Everra could feel a twinge of hatred in her heart and she thought to herself, _One day before my time is done, I will look upon her corpse and smile._ Everra was very careful with her self-pitying expression, she did not wish to over do it, " Yes it was incredibly difficult for me to get over their deaths. I mourn for them still," That was a lie of course. But they did not need to know that.

Lady Catelyn's expression had turned into one of pity as she regarded the girl and felt rather guilty for judging her. Everra noticed this and she almost rolled her eyes, she hated it when people pitied her especially when the topic of her parents came up. She had always hated everyones false sympathy, when she was younger it made her angry, to the point of almost becoming murderous but if she was going to be successful with her plans with and for the Starks, she could not draw suspicion to herself.

Queen Cersei had opened her mouth to ask her yet another question but was quickly shut up by the arrival of Sansa Stark. As Everra regarded the girl's nervous and excited expression, she could only think of how in a few very short months these people would become her nightmare.

She rose from her chair, eager to go outside, "If you will excuse me, your grace, my lady, I need some air."

And with that she strode away from the table, thankful to escape the Queen. If she stayed another minute near her she would end up being tempted to rat on her and her brother and put the whole plan to the seven hells, just out of spite. But she would not, she could not. She had been preparing for this far too long to give up just because Cersei was a vicious idiot who did not know that she knew everything.

Everra felt a cruel sense of satisfaction at the thought and hurried out of the hall. She had reach him before Benjen Stark did, if he ended up going to the wall it would mess up all of her plans and that could not happen.

She would not allow it too.

 **A/N Okay this chapter was sh**. Sorry about that. Its just I'm starting school soon and i wanted to upload this before school started. I am about to be swarmed with schoolwork in about twenty four hours or so and updates will not be as regular anymore, but I promise I will try to update at least once every 2 weeks. Oh and I made some changes of the ages of the characters like Robb and Jon are now 18 instead of 16 like in the tv show. Oh and I will diverge many of the stories character's storylines from canon.**

 **I was also thinking of changing the title of the story, but tell me what you guys think and if you have any suggestions. Thank you all again for the reviews and favourites and follows. it really means a lot too me. Tell me your thoughts, I would really love to hear them and I am glad that you all are enjoying this story.**


	9. Chapter 8: I'll be seeing you, Stark

Chapter 8

Jon swung his sword hard against the sack, feeling it rattle against his blows. His humiliation and anger pouring out of him as he thought of the stares and whispers he had received earlier. He remembered how Lady Catelyn had glared at him with such distaste he could only think she wished him dead. He remembered how Lady Everra had merely narrowed her eyes slightly and extended her arm out towards him without a word. They had walked down to the feast hall without a word but just before the door swung open, she had turned to him and said 'Stop looking so scared Snow, I do not bite,' her eyes had swung towards the unopened door and her lips curled slightly upwards, ' neither do they. Stay silent and leave as soon as possible, you have done nothing wrong.' Before Jon had the opportunity to answer her, she had motioned for them to open the door and before he could prepare himself, he was suddenly rendered helpless to the stares and whispers. He had rushed out of the hall as fast he possibly could and decided to vent his frustrations with his sword.

Just as he was about to raise his sword once again, a cold familiar voice called out,

"You have talent with the sword." Jon whirled around and turned to look at the source of the voice, Lady Everra. She was standing nearby, hands behind her back, with a cold appraising look in her eye.

Jon swallowed uncomfortably but kept his eyes on hers. "Thank you my lady."

Then they both stood there silently, each of them refusing to look away until she cleared her throat and motioned towards the sack on the stick, "Don't let my presence stop you."

Jon looked around uncertainly and turned back to face the sack, lifting his sword he swung and jabbed self consciously, he was very aware of her gaze assessing his every move and noticed mid swing that she had come closer to his side and her face was in deep thought.

He raised his sword again half heartedly but quickly put it down at the sound of her voice, "You're grip is wrong."

Jon turned around to look at her and felt himself growing rather frustrated and opened his mouth to question what exactly she knew about sword fighting and then remembered briefly how Arya had rambled on about how great of a warrior and tactician she was.

"What would you suggest I do my lady?" Jon forced out, agitated.

Lady Everra looked slightly amused at this and tilted her head slightly, "Have I offended you Snow?"

Jon stiffened and looked down, embarrassed. He heard her let out a small sigh, "What are your plans?"

Jon snapped his head up and gaped at her, "Plans my lady? For what?"

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand at him, "For the future, what do you plan on doing?"

Jon was rendered speechless and felt his face grow hot. She seemed to grow rather impatient with him and she snapped coldly, "Come on bastard, I do not have all night."

Jon felt stung and his blood boiled slightly. He hated it when anyone used that word even though he knew that was what he was. He swallowed slightly and answered stiffly, "The Nights Watch, my lady, thats where I plan on going." He turned back to the sack and began to lift his sword, "Ah how predictable, you have proven to be rather disappointing Snow." She then turned around and began to leave until his voice stopped her in her tracks, "What do you mean?"

She turned back to regard him closely and said, "You are awfully predictable. The bastard of an honourable Lord is desperate to prove himself useful to his father and is desperate to belong somewhere so he decides to go to the Nights Watch where no bastard has ever been turned away or rejected."

Jon felt the grip on the hilt on his sword tighten with anger but he also felt slightly awestruck and defensive. "You know nothing about me-"

She nodded in agreement but looked rather indifferent towards the situation, "That is true Snow, but what I do know is that you are the son of a noble Lord who also happens to be the lord of Winterfell and you are rather talented with the sword it would be a waste for you to waste your talents on something such as the Nights Watch."

Jon felt furious, who did this woman think she was? And despite all the common courtesy he had been taught he felt like he was going to snap or yell at her.

"The Nights Watch is an honourable brotherhood which is dedicated to defending the Seven Kingdoms from terror and destruction my lady," Jon said angrily.

She merely raised an eyebrow and responded, "That may have been true once. I have heard the stories about the Nights Watch, my mother told me them. There were thousands upon thousand of knights and soldiers dedicated to defending the realm until year by year it slowly turned into an escape route for rapists and murderers whom only joined to escape death," She took a step towards him and soon Jon found that they only the small wooden fence was in between them and was absorbed by the intensity of her emerald eyes, "Your uncle is the rare exception. Do not waste your life on something as unfulfilling as the Nights Watch."

"What do you suggest I do my lady?" Jon said bitterly. He felt betrayed by everyone, when were they planning on telling him this? They all suspected he would one day take the black, Lady Stark had prayed for it most likely.

"That is quite simple Snow, I would like to train you to become a part of my army."

Jon gaped at her, his brown eyes widening. He blinked several times in confusion and he felt as though he was just hit over the head with a pot. The words kept on repeating in his head,on and on until that was all he knew.

She cleared her throat expectantly and Jon realised he had been staring at he open mouthed for a few minutes straight and he felt his cheeks flush.

"Your army… training" he said, voice filled with wonder.

"Yes training for my army. Most of my soldiers are Unsullied or SellSwords but there are a few thousand which I handpick for training if I think they have potential. I think you have potential and I am in need of some new soldiers as majority of mine will remain in Essos for the forceable future."

Jon was still reeling from the dramatic turn in events. He wanted desperately to say yes but feared that if he answered to enthusiastically she would take back her offer. She did not seem the type for such happy emotions.

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, " I understand you are very honoured by my offer and that you must ask your fathers permission first, I am giving you two days for your response, if I receive none, I will merely forget I ever asked you. You're good but not irreplaceable."

Jon nodded and smiled at her, she did not return it.

"Thank you my lady for your generous offer."

They stood there in silence for a few moments, gazing at each other until there was a distant sound of a horse galloping towards them. She turned to look down the hallway and sighed knowingly she then turned towards him once more and said, " You must make up your mind quickly, Snow. Remember what I said, do not waste your talent."

Then she promptly strode back towards the entrance inside, leaving him to his own strewn thoughts.

It was only after he noticed a familiar man walking towards him that he realised that she had gone, he had been too shell shocked to notice. When he did recognise the familiar face striding towards him he momentarily forgot the past few minutes and strode forward to meet him, grabbing him into a hug, "Uncle Benjen!"

The older man chuckled slightly and pulled back from their embrace, patting Jon on the shoulder.

" Been riding all day, didn't want to leave you alone with the Lannisters. Why aren't you at the feast?"

At this Jon's smile cooled down considerably as did Benjen's, "Lady Stark thought it might insult the royal family to seat a bastard in there midst."

Benjen nodded his head in understanding and asked him, "Whom was that woman who just left?"

Jon's eyes widened and he felt like cursing but tried his best to conceal his internal panic, "She just wanted to learn my name, I ended up escorting her to the feast, she is Lady Everra Legrath."

Benign stilled slightly and Jon saw a flash of shock in his eyes which was quickly concealed, he stepped forward towards Jon and cupped his head and asked fiercely, "She did not ask anything else from you, did she Jon?"

Jon paused for a moment and was tempted to glance towards the floor but forced himself to keep on looking Benjen in the eye, "Nothing at all, Uncle Benjen."

Benjen relaxed, seemingly convinced and then took a step away from Jon, forcing a smile, "Well I better go rescue your father from his guests," He smiled again at Jon, "I'll talk to you later."

Jon stared at his uncles retreating back and was curious and confused as to his reaction. What he did know now though, was that he was as tempted as ever to accept Lady Everra's offer, he just needed to ask his father. _Soon,_ he promised himself, _Soon._ Then he swiftly turned back to the sack and swung at it once more.

* * *

Everra leaned against the wall in an empty corridor and let out a breath she had not known he had been holding. She stayed in that positions for a few moments and then quickly straightened her back at the sound of someone approaching the hall. She glanced around slightly, looking for some form of escape but found none. She was not in the mood to deal with another Lannister but it seemed that the gods were not in her favour tonight as Tyrion Lannister stumbled over in her direction and she could smell from here the wine from his breath.

She stood there, watching him cooly until he looked up an finally noticed her presence and he let out a drunken chuckle, "Pleasure to meet you my lady."

Everra nodded in cool acknowledgment and returned the greeting, 'The pleasure is all mine, my lord."

She did not like many Lannisters, just as she did not like many people, while she may not particularly like him, she respected him a great deal. That in itself was as far as she got to caring about someone. She respected his wit and intelligence even if he did not know it. He had probably been the sole reason why the Lannister's had survived Stannis at the Battle of Blackwater Bay, it was a shame he would have to die.

At this point Everra noticed that he was staring drunkenly at his shadow giggling and hiccuping in random pauses, "Excuse my rudeness my lady I am just admiring my shadow, you must have seen it and could not escape fast enough," he said with a hint of bitterness and amusement.

"A small man can cast a very large shadow I've learned, my lord," Everra replied, eyes cold.

At this he turned up to peer at her thoughtfully, seemingly sobered. "You are quite the mystery my lady, "

"Am I now?" She replied, her eyebrows raised.

He nodded and then swayed on his feet but quickly caught himself, "Yes quite the mystery," he turned around to face her and stumbled slightly, chuckling at his own clumsiness, "I've always-" hiccup "wondered" hiccup "Why you fled to Essos after your _dear dear_ father's death?" hiccup.

Everra took a step towards him and felt slightly amused. He would not remember this conversation in the morning. She crouched down to his height and stared into his eyes, "When I was younger I was afraid of ghosts and my home was full of them, seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the time."

He raised his eyebrows at her questioningly and said, "And it took you ten years to realise that ghosts can not harm you? Seems rather out of character, my lady, you have already gained quite the reputation."

Everra nodded in agreement and then replied, "Ah but thats where your wrong my lord,ghosts can hurt you. In more ways than one might think."

"Ah! So you left to conquer your fear of ghosts and the marks they leave behind? How very touching my lady," he replied mockingly. "Did you leave to grieve your suicidal mother? I've heard multiple stories of her demise, but I would far rather prefer hearing the story from you."

Her eyes narrowed down at him and she was tempted to curl her hands into fists but quickly calmed herself, he only wanted a rise out of her and she would be damned if she let him succeed.

"My mother was a weak spineless woman who spent her days wallowing in self pity and when she deemed me old enough she flung herself from the highest tower at RedRun and when she hit the floor her face was so disfigured it took a while to realise it was her," she said casually and could not help but feel satisfied as the expectant look on Lord Tyrion's face quickly vanished.

He regarded her carefully and then said, "Well it is a rare occasion when someone actually holds up to their reputation, congratulations my lady, you have proven to be as cold and heartless as they say you are."

Her lips curled upwards sightly, " I'm afraid I can not say the same thing for you my lord, unfortunately you are far more predictable than I expected," at his curious expression she continued on, "When you were younger you craved your fathers approval to try to prove that you were more than just a dwarf that killed your mother in childbirth, which was actually not your fault, the only person who has showed you any form of genuine love is your older brother, Ser Jaime or perhaps better known as Kingslayer, while you continued on to crave your fathers approval you ended up meeting a woman, I unfortunately do not know her name, but you fell in love her, but she was a lowborn your father would have never approved and when he did find out, she turned out not to be who you thought she was. What was she? A prostitute? A spy your father sent or your brother paid for to make you feel a little less lonely. Judging by your expression I am rather close, something happened to the woman, something that traumatised you and ever since then you have returned your fathers hatred and you must have sworn to yourself to never wed again and continue to drink and whore your days away even though you are more intelligent than most of the people in that room put together," she finished off, looking at him coldly.

He glared up at her but accepted his defeat grudgingly, he did not like to be defeated.

"Perhaps you should have been the one who fled to Essos for ten years, not me," she added as a last retort.

He clapped his hands together, impressed but stung.

"I see we have reached an understanding with one another?" she asked stiffly.

"Yes it would seem so, my lady," he replied.

He rather reluctantly respected her, not that he would ever let her know, he had a sneak feeling that she knew perfectly well how to manipulate someone.

"It had been a pleasure to become your acquaintance , Lady Everra but if you will excuse me I need to take a piss."

"The pleasure has been all mine, my lord, I'll leave you to your… pissing."

And with that, she strode out of the hallway, leaving the older yet shorter man to his own thoughts.

* * *

Robb burst into laughter at the sight of Arya flinging food at the side of Sansa's face and laughed even more at her exclaiming "Arya!" He could not stop laughing at the sight and Theon joined in, his insides were hurting from how strong his laughter was.

As Arya prepared to fling yet another spoonful of food, he caught his mothers eye and she jerked her head towards Arya and Robb rather reluctantly strode over towards her and lifted her from her seat, effectively preventing her from launching yet another attack at Sansa, "Time for bed!"

On their way towards the door they dodged drunken men and passed his father and Uncle Benjen, whom were talking in hushed whispers but cut off abruptly at the sight of him and Arya passing by.

As they finally managed to leave the feast, they stumbled into the darkened hall and waited a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the obviously darker hall. He could still hear the drunken laughter from inside the hall and the lively music which slowly turned faded away as they walked to Arya's chambers.

"But its not fair! Why do I have to go to bed!" Arya complained and Robb shook his head at her, amused.

"If you did not wish to go to bed perhaps you should not have thrown food at Sansa," he replied, ruffling her hair.

"But it was funny! You laughed," Arya said, accusingly.

Robb chuckled slightly and paused, gripping her shoulders, " Yes I did but mother did not find it very amusing. Maybe if you tried to get along with Sansa-"

"I've tried but she always ignores me or tells me to shut up!" Arya replied, her voice small.

"I know, I know," Robb said empathetically, "Come on, lets get you to bed."

Then they continued on walking in silence but as they almost reached her chambers Arya peered up at him and asked, "Robb?"

"Yes Arya?" He replied, looking down at her.

"Are you going to marry Lady Everra because if you are that would be fantastic I could ask her about fighting and she could teach me and tell me stories-"

"As nice as that sounds Lady Arya, I am afraid that is not going to happen," a familiar voice called out from the shadows.

Both Robb and Arya whirled around to face her, she had been leaning against a wall in the shadows and she took a step forward, revealing her face to them.

Robb felt his face warm slightly and swallowed, "My lady, you are far from the feast," he said, his voice firm.

"What an astounding observation, my lord, really, I was not already aware of that," she responded, rolling her eyes at him.

Arya fisted her hand against her mouth in an attempt to cover her giggles. Robb scowled slightly and gently pushed her towards her room, "Get on," he said and ignored her protesting. He waited until he heard the sound of her chamber door closing until he replied.

He turned to face the beautiful woman in front of him and replied coldly, "Is there something you wish to discuss my lady or can I return to the feast?"

She raised an eyebrow at this and took a step towards him, he tensed slightly and was tempted to take a step back away from her but he refused to show any sign of weakness.

"Awww, did I offend you my lord?" She said mockingly, tilting her head to the side.

Robb jaw tightened as he stared at her. No he officially had no regrets refusing to marry her, her past be damned. He attempted to step around her and said, " If you will excuse me, my lady, I must return to the feast," she sidestepped in front of him, blocking his exit, "Now, Now, dear Robb, your father would be quite ashamed of you now wouldn't he? Leaving a poor defenceless woman all alone in an abandoned hallway, free to be raped and murdered," she said,mockingly shaking her head at him.

Robb nose flared as he attempted to keep calm, his mind racing. "Somehow you do not seem like a poor defenceless woman to me, my lady," he replied curtly.

She raised her eyebrows and leaned forward slightly, her eyes assessing his face and Robb could not help but notice how close his lips were to hers and could feel his face turn pink at the realisation.

She smirked slightly and brought her face even closer to his and Robb could feel her inhaling and exhaling against his lip. Her eyes looked up to meet his and Robb stared right back into hers, she purposely bit her lower lip and Robb's eyes darted down for a split second before he quickly snapped them back up to her eyes.

She dragged her lips up to his ear and whispered, "I'll be seeing you Stark," then promptly pulled away from him and strode back towards the feast hall, leaving him standing there with his mouth open and an uncomfortable straining against his breeches.

Robb closed mouth and ran a hand over his face, _What had just happened_? he thought to himself, bewildered. One minute he was annoyed the next minute…. aroused?

It did not occur to Robb until a few moments later that perhaps she had been testing him, what for he did not know.

He had a sneaky suspicion however, that she was right. He _would_ be seeing her and not just over the next few days.

* * *

Everra woke up later that night to someone knocking on her door. She had layed there for hours upon hours, waiting for them to finally come. Andromache kept on snoring on the bottom of the bed and Everra gingerly lifted her sheets as to not wake her and gently climbed out of bed, walking as quietly as she could towards the door.

She opened the door slowly and she was not at all surprised to see whom it was at the other side.

"Anna," she acknowledged and her eyes drifted down her form, unsurprised to see blood stains against her dress and a bloodied knife in her palms. Her eyes were glistening with tears and her cheeks were already stained with tears that had already fallen and her eyes were wide with shock, as if she could not believe she had actually done it.

Everra regarded the girl with something close to sympathy, Anna reminded her of how she reacted when she first killed someone. She remembered the guilt and the shame, the fury and the self-loathing and then the shivers and the nightmares and the unbearable denial that somewhere deep inside she had actually enjoyed seeing the light leave his eyes, until slowly over the years, she would only feel slightly surprised at the emptiness she would feel whenever she killed someone. Like it was not even real, like they weren't someones son or father or husband or brother, like she did not feel anything.

Anna let out a small sob and whispered, her voice choking, "I-um, I did uh wh-what you wanted- I mean- what you um uh _suggested,"_ her voice broke off with horror as she realised just exactly what she had done.

Everra simply stepped aside and gestured for the girl to come inside before someone saw her bloody appearance and Anna gratefully scampered inside the room and Everra closed the door quickly, but not before checking that no one was there or had witnessed anything.

"Did someone see you?" She demanded.

Anna shook her head slightly and tried to say between her ongoing tears, "I don't think so, we were alone and everyone had um, had-"

"I see, " she replied coldly and led the girl over towards the fire.

"I um made sure that- that-'

"No need for the details Anna whats done is done," she interrupted and turned to look at the fire.

They both sat there in silence, the only sound being Anna's random hiccuping and muffled sobs which eventually quite down.

"How do you do it?" Anna asked, her voice uncharacteristically empty. "How do you live? How do you-" Her voice broke off and she covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to calm herself.

Everra thought carefully about her answer, no one had ever asked her something like this before, she was not quite sure how to answer and so instead she said, " Try to get some sleep Anna, you are going to need it. I suppose you will have to sleep here until we can get you a change of clothes, it was rather… unwise for you to come here."

Anna nodded slightly and lay her head against the stone floor and tried her very best not to picture _his_ cold, dismangled corpse whenever she closed her eyes and slowly, eventually, she fell asleep.

Everra rose from the floor and looked down on the sleeping girl by the fire and felt something tug in her stomach. It was an uncomfortable sort of feeling and she did not particularly like it. She sighed softly and look at her bed and then tugged a fur off from it and gently lay it upon the sleeping girl.

She did not like it at all but strangely enough Anna reminded her of her mother in some weird sort of way.

She then climbed back into bed and tried not to think of tomorrows events.

 **A/N Hey guys! I hope you all really enjoyed this chapter and I thank you for all of your support, it really means a lot too me. I originally planned on having Brans fall in this chapter but that would have taken me another week or so to write and I wanted to upload something as soon as possible so this will have to do for now. i hope you all like Robb and Everra's scenes together and Everra's scenes with Tyrion and Jon. I had to rewrite the scene with Tyrion and Everra like 7 times until I was finally satisfied.**

 **Please tell me your thoughts, I really like knowing your opinion on the story and if you have any suggestions please let me know! Thanks again!**


	10. Chapter 9: Are you in or are you out?

**Disclaimer! I own nothing from game of thrones or the song featured below. I have no claim to anything except the original characters.**

Chapter 9

 _It is before first light. Everything is quiet. The halls of the castle are empty, everyone is sound asleep at this hour. A small woman wearing an oversized cloak which hangs over half of her face, hurries down a corridor towards the guards chambers and quietly counts as she passes each closed door._

" _One, two, three, four.." She stops abruptly as she reaches the seventh closed door and as quietly as she could manage, she gently pushed the door open. She stealthily stepped into the dark room, closing the door behind her._

" _Ser Daavos," she whispered. There was no answer except for the occasional snore. She starts to panic slightly and whispers more loudly, "Ser Daavos!"_

 _At the sound of her voice, he leapt from the bed suddenly and before Anna realised what was happening she was pushed up against the door with a knife against her throat._

" _Who are you?" He demanded, pressing the blade more tightly against her neck._

 _Anna shut her eyes and quickly said, "I am Anna, Lady Everra's handmaiden, she sent me to get you!" She held her eyes tightly shut even after the pressure of the blade left her throat._

" _Why has she sent for me?" He asked, sheathing his blade._

 _Anna raised her hand to her throat and began to rub it shakily. She replied warily, "We need your help for something."_

 _The unlikely pair hurried out of the guards room and out of the corridor and made their way to the front courtyard, the hoods of their cloaks bouncing against their forehead._

 _They glance around quickly, making sure that no one can see them and hurried outside, the cold, winter air immediately hitting them. They stick close to the walls and Anna leads him past the blacksmith until they finally arrive at a corner where a bloodied corpse lays. The corpse is of a man, seemingly mid thirties, with a long bushy beard and brown hair. There are multiple stab wounds against his chest, and there are blood stains the front of his armour where a sigil of a black panther lays ._

 _Ser Daavos makes a sound in his throat, disturbed at the sight. He glanced at Anna whose eyes were brimmed with tears and whose mouth had fallen open and she had unconsciously raised a hand to her mouth in horror at what she had done in her rage._

 _Ser Daavos took a step towards her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him and blinked, tears streaming down her face. He looked at her sympathetically and said, "We need to finish this Anna, so we can put this behind you."_

 _She nodded, silent and wiped at her eyes. Davoos removed his hand from her shoulder and turned to look at the body and asked her again, "What did Lady Everra say we must do with it?"_

 _Anna looked up at him, startled and wide eyed and cleared her throat, "Um she said we must wrap a cloth around his chest, she did not say why, and then we must carry him to an alley near a tavern, remove the cloth from his chest and burn it, but to leave the flaming cloth where the body originally lay and then she said you must choose one for the picking."_

 _Ser Daavos nodded in understanding and looked into the girls eyes which were filled with confusion, "What does she mean by that? Choose one for the picking?" She questioned._

 _Daavos did not answer and instead held out a hand expectantly, "The cloth," he simply said, deciding to spare her from the truth._

 _It would be a long night for the both of them._

* * *

Everra rubbed at her eyes and petted Andromache who was sitting beside her in front of the fireplace and stared at the flames, enjoying the sight of the flickering orange and red.

She had slept very little, and when first light finally came she had slipped out of her nightshift and tugged on a simple yet elegant black dress and had tugged out a long black coat, tossing it onto her bed.

She had sat in front of the fire, waiting for the inevitable knock on her door. She continued to sit there on the stone floor until the sound of a hesitant knock came though her door.

"Just a moment!" She called out, rising to her feet.

She made her way towards the door and pulled it open unsurprised at the sight of an exhausted and worn out looking Daavos at the other side of her door.

He opened his mouth briefly at the sight of her and then closed it, seemingly undecided. Everra simply stepped out of the way, holding the door open for him. He quickly made his way in and she shut the door and then leaned against the wall, observing him all the while.

Once Daavos was safely in the confines of her chambers he let his curiosity, panic and suspicion grow and started to pace the floor, rambling, "My lady over these past few years you have asked me to kill, to kidnap, to threaten and to torture and I have done this without question because I knew I was doing it for _you._ But for the life of me, I can not seem to figure out what you have to gain from this-" He stopped pacing and turned to look at her for a moment, his eyes pleading for answers.

Everra stood there in silence for a few moments before answering, "Reassurance of loyalty."

Daavos gaped at her and slowly stared to look bewildered.

Everra sighed and thought that even though he was one of the few people she actually respected in this world, he could be awfully slow at some points.

"Anna," she clarified, " She was a loose end and I….. tightened it and secured it so it may never be lose again until I decide to cut it off," she finished coldly and stared at him, face unexpressive.

Davis stood there, mouth opened in disbelief, "Are you really so cold as to simply kill an innocent girl for no justifiable reason except to serve your purpose?"

Everra's answer was unhesitant, "Yes."

Davis shook his head and laughed bitterly, taking a step towards her, his voice rising, "My lady, you have done _many_ things that would make most people cringe and run away in horror and fear. I have stuck by you because somehow I have always managed to find some sort of justifiable reason for your actions. But by the gods nothing can justify that," he paused and then gestured around the room, "Or this!"

He looked at her, frustrated at her lack of response. She stood there looking at him, waiting patiently for him to finish. Her eyes were cold and calculating as she looked at him and Daavos felt a surge of frustration and anger! So much anger he could swear at that moment he wanted to-

"We are going to let an innocent boy get crippled, thousands of men, women and children will die and you feel nothing! Nothing!" He laughed again but it was filled with bitterness and self pity.

After he had finally finished and is anger was slowly diminishing she spoke coldly but fiercely, "Everytime I have asked you to raise your sword to end a mans life, everytime I have asked you to risk your life for me, anything you have ever done for me whether it be to do an errand or kill a man you did off your own free will. I never forced you to do that. I never enslaved you, I never tortured you into submission. These horrible deeds I have asked of you, _you_ chose to do them. _You_ chose to stick by me all these years and if I remember correctly a few days ago I asked you whether or not you were completely sure to stick by me throughout this war and you looked at me completely baffled at my doubt and replied without hesitation _yes_ , knowing full well what it meant," She paused for a moment and her eyes somehow became colder, "So yes, Daavos I am willing to kill an innocent girl to make sure that everything goes as planned. I would be willing to kill _anyone_."

She took a step towards him and looked him straight in the eye, her eyes cold with fury, "I do not need to justify anything I do to you. I do not care whether or not you think I am a monster because I am one. And you are a bloody fool for not figuring that out sooner. So, now that we have got that settled I am going to ask you one last time, are you in, or are you out?"

Daavos looked at her, feeling helpless. No matter what he did, he could not get through to her. No matter how hard he tried, she was right, he was a bloody fool. But for the life of him he could not leave her. Even when he wanted too, even when _she_ wanted him too.

Then with all the willpower left within him, he nodded silently and closed his eyes, not bearing to look at her.

 _Knock Knock._

Everra's eyes darted towards the door slightly and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, calming herself. When her eyes finally flickered open, they had lost their fury and had instead adapted to their usual coldness.

She spared Daavos one last glance and turned to open the door, revealing a solemn Maester Luwin.

"My lady I am sorry to inform you of the recent murder of one of your guards…"

* * *

Everra stood at the drunken man in front of her and could smell the mead from his breath even a distance away. He seemed to be approximately around the same age as the King and Lord Stark and had greasy, shoulder length hair, with random brown spots on his otherwise pale face. His teeth were a strong yellow and there were multiple gaps between them.

Everra turned to look at Maester Luwin, whom was standing nearby along with Lord Stark, had started to prepare for the kings hunt and Everra found herself eager for them to leave.

"Are you positive this is him?" She asked cooly, turning back to look at the shaking man in front of her.

"Quite sure my lady, all evidence seems to point to him. He was right next to the body and had a knife in his hands which we can presume if the weapon he used to kill Ser Davent."

Everra nodded and Lord Stark spoke, his voice careful, "My lady we are incredibly apologetic for the Knights death. We will prepare the body for the trip back to RedRun."

"That is most generous my lord, thank you."

Then she abruptly sprung forward and snapped the mans neck with a sickening yet familiar crack and watched emotionlessly as he fell to the ground.

She practically felt all the people behind her jump in surprise and suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She turned back around to face them and causally wiped her hands the front of her dress, "Well now that has been taken care of if you will all excuse me, my lords, my lady, Maester." She curtsied and quickly brushed past them, her long cloak trailing behind her along with Andromache who stuck quite close to her side.

Once she was out of earshot Maester Luwin muttered loudly, "She seems to following in her fathers footsteps my lord, we must be careful."

Ned shook his head in disagreement, "No," he replied, "She's worse."

* * *

Everra ignored everyones fearful and weary glance at her and Andromache as she walked the path back to the castle. She felt rather tired and wished to take a nap and avoid everyone, she did not want to accidentally alter what was to happen with Bran. That was the most essential thing. The catalyst for the war.

As Everra made her way up the path, she was suddenly aware of someone calling her name.

"Lady Everra!" A familiar voice drawled out and Everra paused slightly and then whirled around. No one was there, at least no one she could see. As the noise got louder and louder she noticed that no one else seemed to hear it.

"Psst. By the corner," the voice whispered in her head and Everra turned to look at the corner where her eyes finally landed on the familiar old woman. Everra felt her eyes widen slightly and pushed through the crowd which quickly parted at the sight of her and Andromache.

When she finally arrived at the corner the old woman had disappeared and in her place instead was a sealed letter. Everra bent down to pick it up from the floor and clutched it in her hands. She made one futile attempt in searching for the old woman but was unsuccessful. Some things even she did not have power over.

* * *

Once Everra was safely in the confines of her chambers she ripped open the letter, her eyes scanning over its content. Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead as she reread and reread it.

' _Out in the distance, in somewhere near yet not near, somewhere in the past but not in the distant past,a falcon was taken from the sky. Everyone was sad and bewildered as to what killed the falcon, especially the stags and the dire wolves. The Lions roared in relief, the roses kept on growing, the kraken kept away and the fish from the sea offered their sympathies but no answer could be found. Though there was someone, one with nothing to lose ad everything to gain as he made the falcon fall from the sky. Sometimes it is the person you least expect that ends up being your end.'_

Everra sank to the floor and rubbed at her eyes. She was getting tired, too tired. It made her feel weak. She crumpled the paper in her hands and brought her hand to her face.

After a few moments of staying in that position she finally stood up and walked towards the dying fire and tossed the letter into it. She could not afford for anyone to find it.

Everra sat on the chair by the window and slowly began to rock back and forth as a familiar tune drifted into her head, it was a song her mother taught her.

 _Gods know I'm not dying_

 _But I've been down_

 _And the gods know_

 _its the only way to feel now_

 _with all the blood I lost with you_

 _It drowns the love I thought I knew_

Everra sat there for a long time, long after the hunting party had gone, long after the sun was well up in the sky and she sat there, waiting for the sound that would confirm it all.

Everra's eyes had started to droop and she felt herself losing focus until she heard the distant sound of a wolf howling. Not just any wolf. _Summer,_ she realised. More importantly she realised, Bran.

When the realisation finally hit home, Everra found herself unsurprised at the lack of guilt she felt. Maybe it was because she had always known it would happen, maybe because she knew that it had to happen or maybe because she really was the emotionless monster people said she was.

What she did know however, was that there was no going back from this. This was it, any chance of preventing the war gone, with just one single shove from a certain Lannister.

Everra closed her eyes and finally allowed herself to fall asleep, trying to ignore the sound of Summer howling in the distance.

 **A/n, Okay guys so this chapter is really short, sorry about that. I was just rushing to upload something for you guys. I am so incredibly thankful for all of you support with your reviews and your favorting/following, it really means a lot. Please tell me your thoughts, I would really like to hear them even though I really dislike this chapter.**


	11. Chapter 10: All terror has its purpose

**Disclaimer! I own nothing! Everything belongs to George R.R. martin and the creators of the show.**

 **Also, this story is not edited! You have been warned.**

Chapter 10

Robb stood there watching over Bran with an unbearable amount of guilt and worry pulling at his stomach. _Why are the gods so cruel?_ He asked himself and found he could produce no answer. Bran would live, which was a great thing, but he would be forever crippled, gone were the chances of him ever becoming a knight as he had so often talked about. It made Robb want to be sick.

Master Luwin had just left the room and his mother was sitting right next to Bran as she had been since they found him a day ago. Robb rarely left Brans side too, he knew his father wished to be here more often, but he had guests to entertain. Arya, Sansa and Rickon had not been allowed to see Bran much to their displeasure, Jon had once, when they first found him but was quickly chased away by his mothers glare and had not returned since. There had been something Jon wanted to tell him, something that he was eager to tell him and his father but he had abruptly stopped what he was saying when Lady Everra emerged from the shadows after the hunting party had returned.

She had looked as beautiful and cold as she always did, at least around him, but she had looked tired but still she stood tall and with a cold look towards them she had turned away by which Jon had hurried after her before Robb could do anything to dissuade him. He did not trust her but then again, she did not trust him either but Robb still respected her. He could not help it, but she did have an authoritative air around her. She was unlike any lady he had ever seen before, and a type of lady he hoped he would never had to see again. But that had been before Bran, before…. this.

"Robb," his father spoke softly from behind him and Robb whirled around to see him, standing by the doorway, with a troubled look in his grey eyes.

"Father," he replied.

"You should go outside, be with Theon and Jon, practice with your sword," Ned said as though it were a mere suggestion, but Robb knew his father was sending him a message.

"As you wish Father," he said rather hesitantly and looked back at his mother who had shown no signs of hearing his fathers arrival. She had been in that state for hours upon a hours, never leaving Brans side. Robb would never admit it aloud, but it scared him, seeing her like that. His strong, kind mother in that state.

"You best spend more time with Jon, he shall be leaving soon."

Robb snapped his head towards his father, his eyes widening, "Leaving!" When his mother stirred he lowered his voice and whispered, "Leaving? To where and with whom?"

His father looked rather grave as he answered, "To the Bloodlands with Lady Everra when she leaves."

Robb felt rather conflicted. He was happy for his brother, sad to see him go but he felt rather wary as to Lady Everra's intentions.

"How did that happen?" he found himself asking.

"She asked him the night of the feast, he asked me yesterday for permission after we found Bran," his father revealed, sounding slightly bitter.

Robb nodded and then remember that he should be gone, "I'll leave you and mother alone with Bran," he said and then made his way out of the room.

"Robb," his father called. Robb turned back to look at him, "Thank you."

Robb nodded slightly and did not answer but instead turned and walked away, there was nothing he could say in response to that.

* * *

 _Yesterday Evening_

 _Jon stood there rather awkwardly as he watched his father finish talking to Uncle Benjen. He knew that this was bad timing, especially with Bran…. No, he thought to himself fiercely, No he is not dead. He won't die. He can't._

 _He had to do this now because he knew if he did not do it now he never would. When Uncle Benjen and his father finished talking, Benjen walked past him and patted his back sympathetically. He knew how hard this was for all of them._

" _Jon," his father said, looking at him._

 _Jon swallowed nervously and blurted out as fast as he could, "LadyEverrahasaskedmetoreturntothebloodlandswithherfortraining!"_

" _What?"_

" _Lady Everra had asked me to return to the bloodlands with her for training," Jon repeated nervously. He did not like how his father reacted._

 _His father gazed at him with an emotion he could not yet identify and then sighed, suddenly looking twice his age. His father ran a hand over his face and face and looked at Jon with a hint of.. bitterness, but somehow Jon knew it was to directed towards him._

" _Do you wish to go?" His father asked and Jon felt a rush of gratitude towards him._

" _Yes father, I do, truly," Jon replied quickly._

 _His father nodded slightly and suddenly looked quite wistful, "As you wish, you have my consent."_

" _Thank you father," Jon said and leaned forwards to hug him, but dropped his hands at his side quickly as a rush of guilt flooded through him. Bran. Poor dear Bran who would never have the opportunity to do something such as this._

 _His father nodded at him in understanding at his miserable expression and placed a hand on his shoulder and looked him directly in the eye, "Jon if you are feeling forced into accepting this, if she is somehow forcing you-"_

" _No!" Jon protested, "No, the Lady Everra is not forcing me to do anything I do not wish to. For all I know she could retract the offer."_

 _And with that Jon moved out of his fathers grasp and thanked him once more before hurrying out of the room as fast as he could._

* * *

"Why did you not tell me?' Robb asked Jon as they were handed their wooden swords from Theon.

Jon froze slightly and averted his eyes from his, "About what?" he said roughly.

"About Lady Everra's offer," Robb replied and took the sword from Theon's hands, twisting his wrists experimentally.

"What offer?" Theon asked before Jon could answer.

Robb's eyes flickered towards him and he said, "Lady Everra has offered for Jon to return with her to the bloodlands so he can receive sword training to become a part of her army."

"What?!" Theon exclaimed loudly, "When?"

"The night of the feast," Jon answered uncomfortably.

Theon whistled and muttered loud enough for both of them to hear, "Lucky bastard."

Jon stiffened slightly and mimicked Robb's actions. Theon had taken a step back from them to avoid getting hit by them.

Robb and Jon circled around each other, each of them eyeing the other carefully, waiting for someone to make the next move.

"Come on then! Get a move on!" Robb heard Theon call out.

Robb smirked slightly and was about to chuckle at is friends impatience before Jon swung his sword in his direction which he managed to block, startled.

 _As you wish,_ Robb thought and then managed to free his sword from under Jon's letting him stagger a few steps in his direction before Robb sidestepped out of the way.

Jon whirled around to face him and swung his sword at him yet again and Robb raised his own against his, snapping from side to side. Robb had never seen Jon like this before, so straightforward, it almost seemed as though he was trying to prove something. But to whom Robb did not know.

Robb could vaguely hear Theon calling out random remarks in the background as he usually did but this time Robb could not find it in him to pay attention.

Both Robb and Jon grunted as their swords clashed with the other, until they were stuck in a tight lock, each one pushing back and forth, eager for the other to cave.

"Ugh ya!" Jon grunted and they simultaneously stepped away from each other before Robb swung at Jon before he could comprehend what was happening.

Robb could suddenly feel everything he had been repressing, his worry over Bran, _swing_ , his guilt, _swing_ , his confusion, _snap_ , his nervousness and his fear.

"Robb, Robb!" Jon called out.

Robb looked around suddenly and realised that his arms were raised over his head and that Jon's sword was lying a few feet away from them and that Jon was on his knees on the ground.

Robb dropped his arms from above his head and let them hang limply at his sides, his sword slipping out of his palm.

He felt himself pale as he spoke, "I'm sorry….I am not too sure what happened," he said and he could hear the shakiness in his voice.

They stayed in that position for a few moments before Jon climbed back onto his feet and patted Robb on the shoulder. Robb felt a rush of gratefulness towards him and couldn't help thanking the gods for having him there.

Even though Theon was like a brother to him in everything but blood, Jon was his actual brother, bastard or not and he understood probably better than anyone what he was going through, what they were both going through, in ways Theon never could and never would.

Speaking of Theon, Robb noticed that he had gone rather quiet and turned around to see if he was alright but instead found beautiful emerald coloured eyes staring right at him.

He unconsciously made a low noise in the back of his throat as he comprehended whom was standing before him and his cheeks could not help but warm.

"Lady Everra," Robb heard Jon say. Robb simply stood there, silent, observing her.

"Snow," she acknowledged in her usual cold manner and then her eyes glanced towards him and she nodded, "My lord."

Theon was standing next to her, and was trying-and failing- at being discreet as he stared down her dress.

Robb nodded back in acknowledgement and wiped the sweat from his brow. Lady Everra looked at Jon once more and said, "Emotions are getting the best of you Snow. You best control them before they get you killed."

Robb practically felt Jon stiffen from beside him as he nodded in agreement and shifted his eyes towards the ground. There was silence for a few moments before Theon said, "My lady, I have heard that you are one of the best warriors in all of the known lands, I have always found it rather admirable that you took the time to learn all of these skills that earned you your reputation."

Lady Everra turned to look at Theon, her face unimpressed at his attempt of flattery and merely raised an eyebrow in response before answering, "If that is your attempt of flattery my lord it is truly a wonder as to why all the whores of Winterfell fawn over you Greyjoy," she said Greyjoy as though it was some sort of illness, some sort of terrible thing.

Robb's blue eyes widened in surprise and Theons face turned a bright pink and his mouth twisted into a scowl. Robb could see Jon's brown eyes widen also.

"Apologies my lady, I meant no offence, " Theon sputtered out but Lady Everra simply glanced at him and turned to face Jon and Robb once more.

"Excuse me, my lady," Theon muttered and hurried off, his ego knocked down.

Robb felt both intrigued and mistrustful towards lady Everra, he did not like her or her actions but he could not help but remember how he had felt to feel her so close to him but that did not excuse her inexcusable coldness.

Noticing his cool expressions and disapproving glint in his eye she said to him, "Have I offended you my lord?"

"Not at all, my lady," he replied cooly, keeping his eyes on hers.

"Hmm," she said, unconvinced, she seemed rather unnervingly good at reading him.

"You do not like me very much, do you?" She asked cooly, as though she already knew the answer.

Robb shock his head slightly and said, "No, I respect you very much my lady."

Jon shifted uncomfortably and said, My lady, Robb, perhaps I should take my leave-"

"No, stay right were you are Snow, let this be considered as lesson one," she said, never removing her eyes from Robbs.

"You judged me from the moment you saw me, my lord and even before then, when you first heard about me," as Robb opened his mouth to protest, she raised her hand, stopping him, "Do not try to deny it, my lord, I will know when you are lying, same way I know when most people lie to me."

"Your reputation did indeed give me an insight on your character," Robb said," As well as your previous actions that inspired terror to the nearby lands."

She shrugged carelessly and said, "All terror has its purpose, _Lord Robb,_ it would serve you best to remember that."

"While that may be true, my lady, should we not aim to have our people admire and respect us rather than fear us wouldn't you say?"

"No, no I wouldn't, because that is the thinking that gets most people killed. I am a year younger than you my lord and yet I have seen more of the world than you will in your lifetime. You have a lot to learn, including better judgement of others and better choices in whom you trust."

At this, Robb saw a glimpse of anger in her eyes before it was quickly concealed. She cleared her through briefly and said, "Jon, I have decided to leave sooner rather than later, we leave for RedRun tomorrow at first light. You best get packing. Now if you will excuse me, _my lord_ , I have matters to attend too."

The with that, she turned on her heel and walked briskly away from them but Robb kept on reliving the past few moments in his head, even long after she had finally disappeared from sight.

* * *

Jaime smirked slightly at the sight of Lady Everra walking away from the Stark, she was an interesting character, one that he could not quite figure out. Jaime was like his brother in some ways, he always liked figuring someone out.

"My lady," he said, sauntering over towards her, a smirk forming on his lips.

"I recently heard that you are leaving tomorrow, such a shame, truly, I would have like to become better acquainted with you."

She simply stared at him, her eyes cold and Jaime found to his eventual frustration that she was unfazed at his attempts to anger and insult her.

"Yes, such as shame, Ser Jaime," she replied, regarding him carefully.

Jaime could not help but look slightly startled at this, she had addressed him by his name. His true name.

"Yes, I would have liked to see how well you can fight, you have quite the reputation you know."

"I am perfectly aware of my reputation Ser Jaime-"

"Yes but I wonder who trained you? Your dear _darling_ father perhaps? I have heard of his… _skills_ in battle, seemed like a talented guy."

"Yes I am sure that my father and yours must have bonded over their _talent,_ Ser Jaime. Perhaps one day we can bond over ours," she said and even though her voice was cold, Jaime understood the underlying message, _Or maybe we can kill the other with our talent._

Jaime stood there, stung and defeated and nodded saying, "Perhaps, one day my lady."

"Perhaps," she answered and then said, " If you will excuse me I have matters to attend too."

As she brushed past him, Jaime followed her with his eyes until she disappeared from sight.

"My dear big brother, what a sight you are," Tyrion said, his voice filled with amusement.

"How long were you standing there?" Jaime asked.

"Long enough to hear everything. She is an interesting character wouldn't you say?"

"Quite interesting, but not enough too tempt me," Jaime replied.

"Ah, but enough to tempt me it would seem." At his brothers curious expression Tyrion added, "Oh my dear brother, you see but you do not observe. She is playing with us, judging us, watching our every move, knowing just what can set us off and what can break us within moments. One night she will find you drunk and observe you enough to guess everything about you and the next day she can tell you that your welcome to visit her home whenever you would like."

"She-"

"Yes, my dear brother, it seems as though I am of some sort of value to her in whatever she's planning. And she is planning something."

Then the two brothers stood there in silence before Jaime asked, "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Going to the bloodlands any time soon?"

"Hmm, most probably, as you've always known big brother I have always liked a challenge of the mind, the body not so much."

* * *

Catelyn had never imagined that one could be in such pain as she stared down at Bran, wiping at his brow with a cloth. She felt as though thousands of dangers were stabbing her all at once, repeatedly, never ending her agony. It was unbearable.

"Bran," She whispered, _Oh my dear sweet Bran._

Tears streamed down the side of her face but she made no move to catch them and simply stared at her son.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "By the gods please wake up, _please,"_ she pleaded and gently ran her fingers through his soft hair, her tears falling on his cheek.

She refused to leave him, she would not. She did not want him to feel alone.

She was about too speak again before she sensed someone standing at the doorway and she snapped, "I will not leave him Ned, I won't."

"I'm sorry my lady but I am not Lord Stark," a voice said and Catelyn turned around, startled at the sight of Lady Everra standing in the middle of the doorway.

"My lady," she said, flustered, "I am sorry I would have- I would have-"

"There is no need for apologies, my lady," she interrupted and then they fell into silence.

"I am taking my leave tomorrow, I just wanted to pay my respects."

" _He is not dead_!" Catelyn snapped and immediately covered her mouth with her hand and quickly apologies saying, "My lady my most sincerest apologies, I do not know what came over me."

"You are a mother in mourning over the possible death of one of her children, there is no need for explanations for what you do or do not do."

Catelyn nodded appreciatively and said, "It is most unfortunate that you leave tomorrow my lady, I hope you-" she paused, taking a deep breath and continued, "I hope you had a lovely stay here at Winterfell and that you have a safe journey."

"Thank you my lady, I do hope me and my recent companion have a safe journey, it would be rather tragic for him to die first time away from home."

At Catelyn's bewildered expression, Lady Everra merely raised an eyebrow and said, "I am sorry my lady, I thought you knew, Jon will be leaving with me."

Catelyn could not help but breathe in relief at the declaration and raised her hands to her chest, she had wanted him gone since he was a babe. Catelyn did not notice how Lady Everra's eyes had hardened with anger at her clear relief at Jon leaving which was quickly concealed the moments Catelyn's blue eyes flickered towards her and she said, "If I may ask why, you will be the ba-, Jon with you?"

"He has talent with the sword and has plenty potential, my lady," she answered, voice even.

"Yes, as I am sure he does," Catelyn muttered under her breath.

They stayed in silence for a while until Lady Everra cleared her throat and walked towards Bran, stopping when she reached his side.

"May I?" she asked gently and Catelyn nodded, silently observing.

She bent down over Bran and whispered something in his ear and Catelyn could not help but wish to know what she had said but then she was kissing his forehead and placed something under his fur by his chest.

"Let him open it when he wakes," she said turning towards Catelyn.

"If he wakes," she said bitterly and took his hand in hers, turning away from the emotionless girl.

"He will," she said and by the time Catelyn turned back around she was gone.

* * *

Everra lay in bed late night, unable to sleep. She had been thinking about Bran, not out of guilt,no she did not feel guilty for letting it happen, she knew in her heart and head that it was necessary but she could not help but compare him to herself when she was a child. It made her slightly wary.

She could hear Andromache's snores and could feel her radiating off her, even through her furs.

She climbed out of bed carefully and stood by the fireplace, her eyes observing the dull but cosy room and her eyes fell upon the carefully packed chests.

 _Knock knock._

It was a gentle sound, but still Everra could not help but snap her head towards the door and thought that if it was Anna crying with blood all over herself she would damn everything to the seven hells and execute her. She quickly walked back to her pillow and lifted it, revealing a medium sized knife.

She clutched it in her palm and calmly walked towards the door and pulled it open and was somehow unsurprised at whom it was at the other side.

They stared at each other, their eyes cold and untrusting one filled with bitterness and the other with anger and when the person opened their mouth to speak Everra cut them off saying, "It's my turn now. You had years now it is my turn."

Even though her voice was calm and icy, Everra felt more vulnerable in that moment than she had in many years. The person looked rather speechless and Everra gently closed the door shut but waited until the shadow of the other person disappeared down the hall before she went back to bed.

It was her turn now, and she would kill anyone who tried to take that away from her.

* * *

"My lady, you are awake," Anna said when she walked through the door. Everra slowly glanced at Anna from her position by the window and said, "Your power of observation continues to astound me everyday Anna, truly, I am impressed."

Annas cheeks flushed slightly and she said, "Since you are already clothed and all the chests have been packed away are you in need of my service, my lady before we take our leave?"

"No, you may go, tell Daavos I will be down in a moment."

"As you wish." Then she scurried out of the room, eager to leave her mistresses icy presence.

Everra sighed softly and stood there for a few more moments before making her way out of the room, Andromache right on her heels.

* * *

"Ah I wish to see your beautiful face again soon!" Robert exclaimed drunkenly and tugged Everra towards his large chest.

Everra stood there unresponsive to his massive affection and said coldly, "As you wish, your grace, it was a pleasure to finally meet you too."

When he finally released her from his embrace, she moved towards Cersei whom enveloped her in a hug and said, "I pray we meet again soon, little dove."

"As do I, your grace."

They then separated from each other and Everra said her respects towards Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella before her gaze landed on Joffrey.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, my lady, I hope we can partake in more activities together in the future."

"As do I, my prince, as do I."

She then moved towards Jaime Lannister whom simply nodded in her direction as his farewell and Everra moved towards Tyrion and bent down to reach his height saying, "I hope we can become better friends in the future my lord, our time together was too short for us to become properly acquainted with one another."

His lips turned upwards as he replied, "My, my lady, you seem to be the first person whom actually wants to become acquainted with me, I wonder why?"

She leaned forward to kiss his cheek and whispered, "You are the future Lord of Casterly Rock and a smart man, why would I not wish to become acquainted with you?"

Tyron smirked slightly and Everra moved sideways towards Lord Stark and said stiffly, "Thank yo for your hospitality my lord, I wish your son well and hope you have a successful tenure as the Kings hand."

"Your kind words are very much appreciated my lady, I wish you a safe journey," he replied politely and averted his grey eyes from hers.

Everra nodded in response and then moved along the line, saying a quick farewell to Sansa before she came across Arya who was looking up at her wide eyed.

"Do you promise to take care of Jon?" She asked when Everra had bent slightly in order for them to talk more quietly.

"I do not make promises little one. But I can say that i will make sure he is treated and accounted for just as all my other soldiers."

Arya nodded and then said, "Can I become a part of your army one day?'

Everra's lips twisted up at the sides as she regarded the young girl and she said, "I do not see why not if your father agrees, little one. Take care of yourself."

Then she moved towards Robb whom was staring at her frostily, their conversation from yesterday still fresh in his mind.

She extended her arm out toward him and he reluctantly grabbed hold of her hand and tried not to notice how smooth and soft it was in his palms. She looked into his eyes and said, "I'll be seeing you Stark."

Then with that, she released her hand from his and turned away from the group and walked towards her awaiting wheelhouse where Anna was already inside waiting for her.

Jon had already said his goodbyes to his family and was sitting on a horse, looking rather miserable but excited at the same time. It was a new beginning for him, a new life but he knew he would miss his old one too.

Everra looked back once again and she briefly raised her hand in a wave before her eyes connected with blue ones and then she turned around and disappeared into the wheelhouse whose door was quickly slammed shut.

Then off they went.

"Did you enjoy your stay my lady?" Anna asked.

Everra did not answer her but simply stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the sudden pounding of her heart. Anna sighed and continued on threading her needle, abandoning all attempts at conversation.

Everra was suddenly very eager to be back in her home, with its familiar coloured stone and the ghosts that haunted every room.

"My lady are you well?"

"Just fine Anna, just fine."

 **A/N Hello my lovelies! It feels like ages since I last updated but its only been a few days. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I was a little bit wary of making Everra leave but I felt as though spending like 3-4 or something chapters in Winterfell was enough. I hope you all enjoyed Everra's interactions with everyone. Tell me your thoughts, I live for reviews. Can we try to get two for this chapter before I upload the next one?**

 **Thank you all so much for your support, it means so much!**


	12. Chapter 11: Welcome Snow

Chapter 11

Jon looked at the castle in awe. It was like everything he had been taught, he recognised the tower that supposedly reached the sky, the two pointed towers on either of its side, the stone which was the colour of blood. There was a sense of freedom but also a sense of finality, this was his new home. He had left Winterfell and would never have to feel Lady Catelyns hateful gaze burning upon him but he would never be able to practise with Robb or Theon or ever have to go somewhere with his father. Chances are he would never see any of them for years. His father had said before he had left that the next time he saw him, he would tell him about his mother but only the gods knew when that would happen.

"Snow," Ser Daavos called out.

Jon snapped his head towards him and noticed that the wheelhouse was quite a distance away and that the older man was a top of his white horse, staring back at him expectantly.

"Act like this Snow and you will be killed within the week," he remarked and Jon's cheeks warmed slightly. Jon tugged at the reigns of his horse and pulled forward towards his new home.

* * *

"Welcome back my lady, you have been thoroughly missed," A man named Maester Liwin was saying. He was an old man with warm eyes but Jon had not missed the slightly scared look in his eye when he greeted Lady Everra, who was standing in front of him, her large panther sitting obediently beside her. Ghost was clinging to his leg and whimpering.

"Thank you Maester your thoughtfulness is truly Yulian, pleasure to see you once more," she said and the older man nodded back brightly at her exclaiming, "Pleasure to see you again my lady, I am glad for your safe return."

She nodded dismissively and gestured towards him, "Jon come here."

Jon swallowed nervously and shuffled forward, Ghost sticking close to his side.

"My lord, Maester, this is Jon Snow, Ned Starks bastard he will be living here for the seeable future."

Jon noticed how all the colour left Maester Liwins face as he glanced at Jon with poorly concealed horror and shock.

"Ah, I met your father once, wonderful man," Lord Yulian said and Jon nodded at him in gratitude.

"Thank you my lord, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Master are you well? All the colour has left your face," Lady Everra questioned coldly.

"Hmm? Apologies my lady, I suddenly feel rather ill, if you will all excuse me," Maester Liwin replied and quickly shuffled away, heading inside.

"Now that we have all the introductions out of the way, Jon you will be escorted to the guards chambers were you will be given a room. You will soon be introduced to Youngbird, he will train and guide you for the foreseeable future, now if you will both excuse me, I have matters to attend too."

Then off she went, Ser Daavos brushing past him to follow her muttering, "Welcome to the Bloodlands Snow."

* * *

" _Out in the distance, in somewhere near yet not near, somewhere in the past but not in the distant past,a falcon was taken from the sky. Everyone was sad and bewildered as to what killed the falcon, especially the stags and the dire wolves. The Lions roared in relief, the roses kept on growing, the kraken kept away and the fish from the sea offered their sympathies but no answer could be found. Though there was someone, one with nothing to lose and everything to gain as he made the falcon fall from the sky. Sometimes it is the person you least expect that ends up being your end._ What does it mean?" Daavos questioned.

"I don't know," she admitted.

"The lions are the Lannisters, the krakens are the Greyjoys, the roses are the Tyrells, the stags are the Baratheons, the dire wolves are the Starks and the fish in the sea are the Tullys and the falcon refers to the Arryn's. We just don't know who made the falcon fall from the sky."

"Why would the woman send this too you?" Daavos questioned.

"I do not know. They showed me nothing of this in the dreams they sent me, Daavos."

"Do they want you to kill whoever did this?"

"One step at a time Daavos, we need to find out which Arryn he is referring to and then who 'made it fall from the sky'. Then we kill them."

Everra turned to look at him, her green eyes narrowed in thought. She stroked her chin and sighed softly, frustrated. "These… people are beginning to frustrate me."

"I can only imagine my lady."

Everra scoffed slightly and sat next to him, her chair scraping against the floor slightly. There were numerous maps and papers all over the large table and Everra's eyes scanned over all of them.

"I know they do not want me to change somethings. I know most things must stay the same until the war, I just do not know what to do with this or who it is. We know the Lannisters would be anyones prime suspect for killing an Arryn."

Daavos frowned at her and then realised, "Jon Arryn."

Everra's eyes flickered towards his and she nodded in agreement, " He recently died under mysterious circumstances. I just thought he was killed by the Lannisters, the dreams made it seem as though it had no genuine importance as to whether or not they actually did. I was wrong to assume so."

They sat there in silence for a few moments until there was a knock on the door. Daavos quickly swept all the maps into a chest on the floor and quickly shut it, sliding it under the table, leaving only various other papers.

The door quickly swung open and Lord Edwin stormed in, looking thunderous. Daavos sprung up, startled and drew his sword, stepping in front of Everra who was sitting there calm and unaffected and casually said, "Daavos leave me and Lord Edwin alone for a few moments, we have much to discuss."

Daavos looked back at her wide eyed and said, "My lady are you sur-"

"Yes I am sure. You may wait outside."

Daavos nodded reluctantly and glared at the lord, his eyes never leaving his form until he disappeared behind the door.

The moment the door was closed Lord Edwin exploded again, "How dare you bring _his_ son here! Have you no conscious?"

Everra glanced up at him and snapped, "You are acting like a child Lord Edwin. He has nothing to do with-"

Lord Edwin scoffed loudly and snapped, " You brought him, that filths son into Red-"

"That filths?" Everra questioned coldly, her eyes darkened with anger.

Lord Edwin flushed slightly and had the decency to look ashamed.

"You have no right _whatsoever_ to barge into my study and complain like a little girl whose toy was just taken away from them. One of the reasons your still alive is because you know when to keep your mouth shut and keep your nose out of my business. _Do not_ ever barge in here, unannounced acting like you can control everything I do. The last man who did that ended up with a knife in his neck but then again you already know that, don't you?" She taunted, her voice low and threatening.

Lord Edwin nodded, his jaw locked and eyes still furious but he was visibly calming down.

"Never do it again," she warned.

They stood there in silence before Lord Edwin slumped down in the seat next to her looking defeated, "He looks like her."

Everra paused and glanced at him her eyes softening just a little, "I know," she revealed, "It was one of the reasons why I…." Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes painfully, trying to will the horrifying image out of her mind.

"I dream of it every night you know, him dying," Lord Edwin revealed, his voice thick with emotion, "Every damned night I kill your father for what he did to her."

Everra looked at him, her eyes emotionless and said, " Get out."

He looked over at her, his eyes widened and said, "I am sorry I didn't think-"

"Out now, before I kill you too."

He slowly got out of his chair and shuffled out and the Daavos came in quietly, his steps small.

"My lady are you well?" He asked gently.

She had been staring down at her hands motionlessly, her hands shaking slightly. Her eyes snapped up at him and she willed her hands to stop, "Quite fine Daavos."

"Did he hurt you?" Daavos demanded, kneeling in front of her.

"No."

Everra gazed down at him, her eyes cold and said, "How much did you hear?"

He glanced down uncomfortably and said, "I heard him say he killed your father every night for what he did to your mother."

Everra nodded, looking at him and said, "Is that all you heard?"

Daavos nodded eagerly and pleaded, "My lady I swear to all the gods I did not-"

"I believe you," she said and they stayed there in silence for a few moments before Daavos hesitantly said, "My lady you once told me that you and Lord Edwin reached an understanding with one another…. what was the nature of this understanding?"

Everra paused for a few long moments before looking at him directly in the eye and said, "You know. You've known for a while, you have just never wanted to admit it to yourself. I did not for a while as well, before I accepted it."

Daavos's eyes widened in shock and he gulped loudly, taking a step away from her.

"You have no idea what I am capable of Daavos, even at the mere age of seven. "

She then walked towards the door brushing past him and said, "You have no idea. None of you do."

Then she exited the room, her heart pounding all the while.

 **A/N All right guys I am so sorry for taking like two weeks to update and then I give you this short thing. I had a little bit of writers block, I have a rough idea of when the story will end and how it will end, its just getting to the war which is the hard part. I hoped you like this chapter anyhow, I don't like it very much, but I needed to give you guys something. Thanks for the massive response last chapter, it means SO MUCH TO ME! Literally you guys are the best!**

 **Tell me your thoughts, hopefully the next chapter will be uploaded sooner rather than later.**


	13. Chapter 12: Monster

Chapter 12

 **A/N Game of thrones does not belong to me! It belongs to George R.R. Martin and the producers of the show.**

Jon was quickly walked down the hallway, following the girl who had introduced herself as Anna, whom was walking rather quickly, Ghost right at his heels.

"The soldiers chambers are at this side of the castle, the servants chambers are nearby and tomorrow you will be shown the mess hall and will be directed as to where you are and are not allowed to sit. The soldiers chambers are separate from the guards chambers as you both have separate duties, the soldiers mainly consist of the men Lady Everra returned with her from Essos, the guards are mostly the men she left behind from when she first went to Essos, she only took a few hundred with her, none of them except one came back."

They past by two soldiers standing near the entrance of the corridor that had numerous closed doors, sounds that Jon could not identify, a language that he could not understand was being spoken and loudly. Jon noticed that the two men had tattoos on their left cheeks. They were rather small and Jon vaguely remembered someone telling him, Robb and Theon about how slaves in Volantis had tattoos on their cheeks, he just couldn't remember which side. If they were slaves however, what were they doing here?

Noticing Jon's startled expression, Anna added quietly, "Don't worry about them, they won't touch you unless Lady Everra commands them too, which chances are she will not."

Jon swallowed nervously as his eyes widened slightly at this remark and he had paused for a moment, the shock of leaving home finally getting to him.

Anna stooped walking when she realised he was no longer behind her and turn back to look at him standing there, his eyes widened and realised what her comment must have sounded like.

She took a few hesitant steps towards him but not close enough for him to reach out and touch her and said, her voice small but firm, "I am sure you will do fine Jon, she will not hurt you."

Jon nodded and then they continued on in silence, the air heavy. When they finally reached the door that led to Jon's new room Anna turned to face him and said, " This is the room for the new….. apprentices. Since you are the first, the room shall be rather empty and bare. Lady Everra wished for me to tell you if you had any questions for her for you to make sure it is of the utmost importance."

Jon had a slight feeling that there was more to what she had to say and looked down at Ghost, suddenly feeling desperate and panicked. They could not take Ghost from him, he would not let them.

Anna smiled softly, but it was weak and did not have its desired affect on Jon, "Since you are the first and only person to stay in these chambers your… _pet,_ will be allowed to stay with you. But Lady Everra has told me to warn you that chances are that will not be for very long."

Jon had to bury down the impulse down the impulse to step protectively infant of Ghost and settled for nodding in false agreement, better to have the appearance of acceptance then panic.

"Thank you Anna," he said, not bothering to return her hesitant smile.

Anna nodded and bit her lower lip, looking up at him nervously, "I wish you the best of luck Jon." Then she hurried away from him, her small frame slowly disappearing from his sight until he was left alone.

Jon pushed the large wooden door open and was greeted to the sight of several empty wooden beds lined up on either side of the room, with wooden chests placed at the bottom of each bed, presumably for clothing and equipment. Ghost rushed forward excitedly and leaped on top of one of the beds, settling down comfortably.

Jon sighed softly and hurried in, shutting the door behind him. There was only one lone bed which was made and it so happened that there was only one candle lit up in the whole room and suddenly Jon missed Winterfell so much he could hardly even breathe.

What had he done? He thought to himself. I left my home, my brothers and sisters, _Bran,_ for a woman he did not even care for. Maybe he could return to Winterfell soon but then everyone would think of him as a coward.

Jon walked over to his bed and sunk down on it, the fight leaving him. All he wished to do now was rest and hopefully all of this madness would leave him by first light.

* * *

Everra stared down at the small piece of paper in her hand, satisfied. Reports had come from Kings Landing, all the men had settled suitably in their respective households, just as she had hoped for.

Everra stood up from her chair and made her way to the front of the fire and tossed the paper into it, she could not risk anyone finding it. The gods knew Maester Liwin and Lord Edwin were suspicious of her already, she could not risk having them fining out what she was up too.

She paced up and down the room, Andromache observing her from her position near the fire. It was late into the night and most of the castle was dead except from the lone light coming from her study. When she had returned from her chambers after she had left the study well later in the day, Daavos had left, returned presumably to his chambers.

She sighed loudly at the thought of the days earlier events, she did not like her past, for obvious reasons but one of the reasons she did not like to speak of it because it held no importance to her anymore. She had experienced monstrous things both from her father and mother but she hardly remembered most of her childhood, the vague things she remembered she witnessed happening everyday. That violence and hatred was embedded into her now, it was _a part of her_ and trying to deny that was weak. If there was one thing Everra hated it was being weak.

Everra poured herself a glass of wine and finished it in a matter of seconds. Lord Edwin had made a valid point to her though, perhaps bringing Starks bastard had been a large miscalculation. It was too late though now, she had brought him here and he did play a vital part in her future plans.

She sat back down in her chair and gazed at the various maps she had pulled out, which were covered in landmarks. She bit her lip and frowned at the sight, still slightly unsure of the plan.

The men from the blood mountains had also reported back to her before she had left for Winterfell, they said that Stormer had told them they still had high food and water supply that would last them for the next few months but Everra was still wary. A lot could happen in a few months, but she had prepared for months on end for this war and for the time leading up to it.

Everra leaned forward slightly and dragged one of the landmarks from one side of the map to another and let out a small dark chuckle at the random thought of how many people had to die for her- for _them-_ to win this war. Assuming they did win of course. She just had to make sure that Robb did not play the honourable fool as he did the previous time, her winning the war relied solely on his cooperation and Everra knew fully well of his methods and tactics. While Everra did acknowledge that the young wolf had exceptional and surprising skill in terms of the battlefield, he was an honourable and self righteous fool when it came to politics, it was after all, what mad him lose the war the first time around. That and love of course.

Love, Everra mused as she gazed down at the maps, what a troubling and foreign idea. The only person Everra ever loved in her life was her mother and her mother was dead. In Everra's mind love was a nuisance, she saw no particular value to it, she loved her mother and that was enough. Love got you killed and Everra had not plans of dying anytime soon, it was a simple deduction that even the most simple minded of people could figure out.

Everra shook her head slightly, and started to gently slide the maps back into their empty chests, deciding that she had had enough for one night. When she was finished she poured herself another glass of wine but this time took her time finishing it, she was not that eager to rest.

Her dreams and thoughts were plagued with the riddle the woman had sent her. She hated riddles, they frustrated her immensely and this one proved to be the worst. Who was the person who made the falcon fall from the sky?

Everra did not know, but she planned to find out. Sooner rather than later.

* * *

Jon awoke to the feeling of cold water splashing against his face and he sat up quickly with a large yell.

"What-!" Through his teary eyed Jon noticed something large and white leap onto the male infant of him and he yelled, "Ghost! Stop!"

Ghost immediately leap off the male and sat next to Jon, still alert and aggressive towards the male whom was now rubbing his forearm. Jon rubbed at his eyes and glared up at the man, intimidated and slightly frightened.

The male was tall and slim but with large muscles with a large scar on is left arm, reaching from his shoulder till his elbow. He had short black hair and a clean smooth face, which was looked solemn but firm. Jon immediately had the sense that this man knew what he was doing, whatever that was.

"I am YoungBird. You must be Snow. Get dressed."

Jon nodded, still startled at the sudden wakening. He hurried up out of the bed and tugged his tunic over his head, reaching for a new one. When he was finished, YoungBird assessed him briefly and then exited the room, motioning for Jon to follow.

Jon followed him hesitantly, shutting the door behind him. YoungBird had stopped mid through the hallway and Jon noticed how silent the corridors were and his cheeks warmed as he realised that he may have overslept.

"Slacking will not be tolerated, Snow. The Lady Everra will not tolerate it, neither will I. I will take you to eat, a beginner training on an empty stomach is no good."

Jon had the urge to tell him that he was indeed not a beginner and who did he think he was telling him that when he realised that he was not at winter fell anymore. He no longer had any position that needed any form of respect, despite him being a bastard he was always addressed with respect by the household but not here.

Jon nodded obediently and followed him, eager to discover more about his new home.

* * *

Everra shifted in the bath, enjoying the feeling of the warm water against her skin. Anna was removing the sheets from her bed, humming quietly. Everra would never admit it aloud, but she admired the girls ability to be cheerful, even though it was a quality Everra never wished to have.

"What do you have planned today my lady, if you don't mind me asking?" Anna asked, her back turned.

Everra paused for a moment and then said, "I have several thing planned today Anna, it would seem that my duties have finally caught up to me." Everra knew that there was more she wished to ask and waited patiently until Anna finally asked.

Anna let out a weak chuckle and then she turned around, her arms full with Everra's bedsheets and she carefully walked towards the large empty bucket which she placed on the floor and carefully placed the sheets in them.

"May I ask what you plan to do with Jon?" Anna said, her voice filled with worry. She turned to face Everra and Everra was slightly amused at the poorly concealed worry and panic on the young girls face.

"I do not see how it is your concern Anna," Everra replied, her voice cold.

Anna flushed slightly and then said, "My apologies my lady, he just seemed like a nice man, I do not wish him ill."

Everra's mouth opened slightly as she observed the girl standing a small distance away from her and her voice sounded cold but something akin to amused as she said, "Anna do you fancy him?"

Anna's cheeks turned a bright red as she vehemently denied it, exclaiming, "My lady no I do not, I just… he seemed like a nice men and I know there aren't that many nice men around these parts my lady. He was kind to me."

Everra's eyes were cool and emotionless as she observed the girl and she quickly said, "This is not one of those love stories Anna that your mother may have told you when you were young. Those _nice men_ do not exist and if they do, they die before their first child leaves their mothers womb."

Anna nodded, her eyes sad as she turned away from her, a tear streaming down her cheek but Everra did not feel bad for speaking as she did. What she said was the truth, regardless of whether or not Anna or anyone else liked it.

* * *

Jon walked quickly behind YoungBird, though he couldn't help taking in the brilliant structure of the castle, with its startling colour. The castle was filled with various types of characters, several of which Lady Everra had brought with her to Winterfell and some similar to the men he had seen the previous night.

YoungBird had given a brief detailing of the castle and where to and not to go, all the feast halls and mess halls were on the ground floor, same as the guards chambers, the soldiers chambers, the households chambers and various other chambers of which he had not even remembered.

His stomach was growling furiously, making Jon eager to finally eat. It seemed agonisingly long to make their way to the mess hall. When they finally arrived, the hall was partially empty, with only a few random people scattered around along with a man standing in the middle of the hall conversing with Maester Liwin. Jon had not met him yesterday and was curious as to whom the man was.

YoungBird had stopped briefly at the sight of them before continuing on down the hall towards a spot were a cold plate of food was awaiting but before they could sit down a voice called out to Jon, "So you must be Ned Starks _son,_ " the man said, his voice cold and disdainful and he said the word son as though it were something vile.

Jon turned to face the man and noticed that both YoungBird and Maester Liwin seemed slightly surprised at the mans hostility.

"Yes I am, my lord, it is a pleasure to meet you," Jon replied as politely as he could and then man in turn nodded stiffly.

"Jon how are you finding RedRun so far?" Master Liwin asked in an attempt to sooth the hostile air.

"Everything has been perfectly well, Maester, thank you for your concern."

They all stood there rather awkwardly and Jon met the mans cold and hateful glare with a rather confused glance, he had no clue as to what he had done to this man, he did not even know whom this man was.

Just as the man opened his mouth to speak once more an authoritative voice cut him off, "Lord Edwin, Maester Liwin I am sure the both of you most excuse Jon, it appears he is late for his training."

They all turned around at the sight of Lady Everra standing a small distance away from them, her panther at her side and her hands clasped behind her back. She took a few steps towards them and Jon noticed her threatening gaze at Lord Edwin, whom was standing there uncomfortably, his eyes hateful.

"As you wish my lady," Lord Edwin said mockingly and he strode away from them without another word and they all glanced warily at Lady Everra, wary to see her reaction. She was standing there, jaw tightened and eyes cold and said, "Excuse Lord Edwin, it would seem he is rather ill and not himself. He usually does not act like a child."

Jon noticed YoungBirds mouth curling upwards slightly and how even Maester Liwin seemed rather surprised at her reaction.

"Now if you will all excuse me, I have important matters to attend too."

Then she turned swiftly and stalked out of the hall, her panther right at her heels.

* * *

Everra stood in front of the door for a few moments, her arm raised hesitantly. _There is no need for hesitance_ she snapped at her herself and proceeded to push the door open and was met with the sight of a hungover Daavos sitting on the edge of his bed, his face snapped upwards, startled.

She calmly stepped into the room and shut the door, her eyes cool and observant. Daavos stared at her silently, not quite knowing what to say.

Everra clasped her hands together as she observed him and surpassingly felt close to relived at the sight of him.

"I thought you left," she admitted and even though her voice was cold there was a tiny amount of vulnerability in her words.

"Never," he replied, his grey eyes honest and warm but tired too.

"I'm… glad that you did not."

Daavos replied, his voice filled with amusement, "I knew from when I first met you that I would be loyal to you until my last day on this earth. I do not intend to stop now."

"I was ten and three when you met me," she said, her eyebrows raised.

Daavos chuckled slightly and said, "You have done things which disgust me, my lady, but we live in a world were we have to do disgusting things to survive-"

"Do not do that Daavos," she snapped, her vulnerability gone.

"Do what?" he questioned, his voice confused.

"Do not try to justify my actions, what I did, what I have done and what I will continue to do is inexcusable and monstrous. I know that perfectly well Daavos, trying to myself or others otherwise would be putting of the inevitable realisation that most of the things you do to 'survive' are not actually for survival, you did the things you did because you wanted too. I killed my father because I wanted him to pay, I wanted to see the life leave his eye and watch as the blood drained out from his body. I wanted him to _suffer._ I wanted to avenge my mother, like my house words; blood must have yes while my father may have been a monster, he was a good warrior and an intelligent man. He was a drunk towards the end of his life but he did teach me something though, never apologise for the monster you become because no one will ever apologise for making you that way."

Her green eyes narrowed Daavos as she said, "A few days ago you were yelling at me because I was willing to let any innocent die if it served my purpose but now you are trying to excuse me murdering my father because he was a horrible man, because you see me as a _victim._ I am not a victim Daavos, my past is something I do not discuss because I see no value in discussing something that does not affect or bother me anymore. Not because it is a cry for help."

She meant it too, she was not a victim of anything, being a victim meant weakness and a Legrath is not weak. They are never weak. They followed one simple rule; Blood must have blood.

 **A/N Hello people! I for some bizarre reason really enjoyed writing this chapter, I hope you guys enjoy it, if you have any complaints or suggestions just let me know. Thanks so much for the response to last chapter, it means SO MUCH! :)**

 **You guys are the coolest people ever! I hope you all liked the development of Everra, I kind of wanted to show the more complex side to her, Jon is hard to write though, but he is vital to the rest of the book. I know the pace is rather slow at the moment, but the story should kick off quite soon, I know how I want to end it and the more major events its just getting there thats the problem. Anyway, tell me your thoughts! Reviews are my motivators! (and are very much appreciated)!**


	14. Chapter 13: Family

**Disclaimer! I own nothing!**

 **A/N There is a little bit of a time jump this chapter! Just a small warning!**

Chapter 13

"Lady Everra Legrath, do you swear by all the seven gods that you will serve the true king?Will you come to his aid when called on? Do you accept him as the rightful heir of the Iron Throne?" Cersei asked, her voice filled with contempt and her eyes twisted into a glare.

Everra was aware of all the eyes staring at her as she knelt in front of Cersei and Joffrey and could feel his arrogant stare from all the up the iron throne.

"I vow to serve the true and rightful King of the realm until death releases me from my vow," she said, her voice obedient.

The room erupted into applause as she stood from the ground and met Cersei's eye. Cersei smiled venomously and said, "Everra Legrath is herby an ally of the Lannister's and the iron throne. Let this alliance help bring peace to the realm and vanish those traitors whom would defy it."

Everra forced a cold smile on her face and curtsied once more before moving to the side, allowing a man behind her to step forth. There were a few hundred more people behind her, of various forms of status. Noble families, knights anyone and everyone whom was eager to be on the right side of the Lannister's. Everra could have laughed at the irony.

 _Everra watched from a distance as Jon skilfully threw knife towards the wooden board and watched as he smiled when the knife hit near the centre of the board. It had been a few weeks since his arrival and Everra made sure to keep up with his progress at least once a week. It was a pleasant distraction from the problems ahead. Jon's mood had improved drastically since Everra had revealed to him a few weeks ago that Bran had woken from his sleep._

 _Everra had been kept up to date on the events that were taking place in Kings Landing, she knew that_

 _Lady Catelyn had just arrived in Kings Landing a few days back and Everra was making sure to keep an eye on her movements for the foreseeable future._

 _She watched as YoungBird advised Jon on how to improve his throwing and felt a strange tug in her stomach as she looked at Jon, he admittedly looked a lot like his father but there was undeniable familiarity in his looks, especially in his eyes. She suspected his eyes were the one reason why Lord Edwin had left him be and possibly for her sake as well, he knew she was up to something._

 _Andromache lay nearby in the sun, stretching in pleasure as she relaxed. Everra felt very tempted to go to sleep but she had things to take care of. After all, she was the head of a great house, she did have her responsibilities. There was something nagging in her in the back of her mind, she knew what it was, she simply did not wish to face it yet. Marriage._

 _Everra scowled at the thought and simply wished it out of her mind. She need not think of it for another few months. She felt something very akin to amusement as she remembered whom she was planning on marrying. For some unfathomable reason, when she had first told Daavos, she had done so in between hysterics._

" _My lady," a voice called from behind her._

 _Everra turned to face them and was greeted at the sight of Daavos, his face tight with worry._

" _A raven from Kings Landing," he said, his arm extending out to give her the sealed piece of paper which she snatched from his hands, furiously tugging it open. Its contents gave her a slight pause as she reapplied what it meant._

 _She looked at Daavos and said, "Tyrion Lannister has just been arrested by Catelyn Stark. Lord Eddard has just suffered his injuries by Jaime Lannister."_

 _Daavos's eyes widened at the realisation and Everra looked at him, her eye's filled with acceptance,_

" _You know what I must do next."_

"My lady?" A voice called.

Everra snapped out of her thoughts and was careful to hide her slight surprise at the sight of Lord Varys standing beside her.

"Lord Varys," she acknowledged.

"Pleasure to finally meet you my lady, I have heard so much about you," he said, bending down to kiss her hands briefly. His lips were dry against her smooth skin and Everra was more than tempted to yank her hand away.

They were to the far side of the proceedings which was now filled with whispers and half hearted laughs. Everyone had begun to get bored.

"Likewise, Lord Varys."

Everra had only been in Kings Landing for a few short days, she had arrived only a day after Lord Eddard had been arrested.

They stood there in silence for a few moments, both of their eyes drifting godwards the youthful King, whose face was twisted into an arrogant and disdainful smirk.

"A wonderful King he shall be," Lord Varys said.

"The most deserving King Westeros shall ever see," she replied in turn.

"You will be going to Rivverun tomorrow if I remember correctly?" Lord Varys questioned.

"That is correct," she said stiffly.

"You must be very brave," he said, "to voluntarily go off to battle. Many men would rather stay in the comforts of their homes."

"But I am not a man Lord Varys," she said.

"No, no you're not," he agreed.

They stood in silence once more, their shoulders brushing against each other.

"I wonder when you arrive if Lord Tyrion shall be there, he seems to have disappeared into thin air."

Everra glanced at the man from the corner of her eye and replied, "Let us hope so."

They did not speak to the other until the line had finally finished and they were finally dismissed and Everra had hurried out as quickly as possible after she had muttered her goodbyes.

She walked briskly past the pool of people exiting the hall and continued to walk until she reached the gardens. She did not like Kings Landing at all, mainly due to its inhabitants but she did appreciate the little beauty it beheld.

She started to walk slower as she distanced herself from the numerous people behind her and finally felt herself slightly relax but you could never be fully relaxed when in Kings Landing, you would die before sundown.

"My lady!" A voice called out and Everra curled her fists in frustration. She was more affected by everything in Kings Landing, strangely more vulnerable than she was anywhere else. One false movement and she would be dead on the spot.

She turned around and saw Daavos walking quickly towards her, panting slightly. She quickly peered around to see whether or not they were being watched and when she saw that they weren't she grabbed a hold of his hand and pulled them behind a tree, their voices in low whispers.

"Did you find her?" she whispered, letting go of his hand.

"No-my lady I did not," he admitted reluctantly.

"Then what are you doing here? We have one day left to find her Daavos! We need not waste any time," she snapped.

Daavos nodded and slipped away from her, disappearing from sight in a matter of moments. They had been searching for the Stark girl for dies to no avail, Everra would have been impressed if not for the undeniable stress it gave her.

 _One more day,_ she thought to herself, _one more day and then the next time I see any of these people it is when I see their lifeless corpses._

It was a strange kind of comfort.

* * *

Everra sat down in front of the table, sighing at the thought of all the plans she still had to make for tomorrow. War was a stressful process, one of which she could not have known the extent of beforehand. Daavos was still searching for Arya in the streets of Kings Landing. She propped her elbows onto the table, burying her head in her hands. Everra could feel her exhaustion spreading throughout her body, her eyes dragging shut.

She had not slept at all since her arrival in Kings Landing a few days before, or perhaps it merely felt that way. She knew that it was essential for her to be here however, she _knew_ that. She lifted her head from her hands and grabbed the quill placed on her desk, writing on the paper laid out in front of her.

A short time later there was a hesitant knock on her door and Everra snapped her head up from her writing, her hand coming to a pause.

"Come in," she called out, dabbing her quill in the ink. The door opened slowly to reveal a sheepish Lord Varys standing behind the door, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Lord Varys," She said, "What a pleasant surprise do come in."

He moved into the room, softly shutting the door.

"Thank you my lady, I planned on speaking to you earlier, but I had to find something for you first."

Everra raised her eyebrows questioningly, her green eyes staring at the man coldly. Lord Varys stepped in front of the desk and revealed from behind him in his hands a folded piece of paper.

"Lord Varys while I am flattered that you wish to bring me something, I have no use for a folded piece of paper."

Varys smiled slyly, and unfolded the paper, laying it in front of Everra.

"Oh but I think you do, my lady. That is a map that details all the escape routes of the Red Keep. I thought it may have been of use to you."

Everra paused slightly and placed her quill down and stared up at the man in front of her. She tilted her head to the side slightly and feigned ignorance, "Why not give it to the King?"

Varys chuckled at her slghtly and said, "I suspect you will give to _a_ King but not the one on the Iron Throne."

Everra remained outwardly calm at the accusation and continued to stare at him coldly, "Are you implying something Lord Varys?"

Varys sat down in the empty chair in front of her and smiled, "You are a smart girl, my lady, quite smart. You almost fooled me as well, pretending to swear loyalty to the Lannisters, pretending to take Ned Starks bastard hostage, smuggling your near sixteen thousand soldiers into Westeros months before your own arrival, it was all very very good. Truly, I am astounded at your accomplishments."

"What do you want?"

Varys's chuckled loudly and said, "Believe it or not my lady we both have common goals-"

"And what would those be?"

"Doing the best for the realm, my lady is the most prominent one. I think we can both agree that our dearly beloved King is clearly not what is best for the realm. I simply thought I may aide you in your journey."

Their eyes met for a few moments, both of the stares threatening until Everra sighed softly and said, "What gave me away?"

Varys's lips tugged upwards at her question but he did not answer her, instead starting to hum a familiar tune.

Everra stiffened slightly as the familiar tune reached her ears, it was the song her mother used to sing to her.

"You didn't know my mother," she said coldly.

"No," he agreed, "but someone else in the castle knew her very well."

Everra's jaw tightened at the reminder and one of her hands curled into a fist.

She leaned forward slightly and examined the paper placed in front of her, her eyes latching on to every detail.

"Why not reveal me to the Lannister's Lord Varys? Why help me?" She questioned softly, her voice still cold.

Varys paused for a few moments, seemingly searching for a response.

"I think the better question would be why you are siding against the Lannister's my lady," he replied.

"That does not answer my question."

He sighed contemplatively and said, "You surprised me. Not many people have managed to do so over the years but you have managed to do so, on more than one occasion."

They sat in silence for a few moments until Varys stood up from his chair and said, "My lady I best be off, it is getting rather late."

Everra watch him go quietly, her eyes focused on his retreating form until he reached the door and paused saying, "You may want to speak to him you know, it may help."

Then he left, leaving his words echoing in her head.

* * *

Ned's eyes flickered open from sleep and he slowly brought himself upright, unable to see anything in the cool dark dungeon. He could hear the echoes of rats nearby but was unable to see them, his only escape from this hell was sleep, and even then he was never truly free. He never would be free again, he would never see his family again. Never see his home again.

He shut his eyes and was about to drift back into darkness when he felt a figure approaching, the light of the torch making his eyes burn. He sat stiffened slightly and braced himself, was he about to did not even know whether it was day or night or how long he had been here for, though it felt as though it were eternity.

His eyes squinted as he tried to make out the cloaked figure, trying to place the in his memory.

"Who are you?" He croaked out, his voice weak and fragile.

"I'm rather insulted Lord Stark, it was not so long ago when I first met you, I hoped to make a lasting impression," Everra said, tugging back the hood covering her face.

Ned stared at her, his eyes widened with surprise.

"Lady Everra?" he whispered.

"Yes," she replied.

They were both silent for a while, each of them struggling to say something.

"What are you doing here?" Ned said finally, curiosity getting the best of him.

When she didn't answer him Ned turned to look up at her staring down at him, her head tilted to the side.

"You know I have loathed you since I was a child. I hated the very thought of you. I used to imagine you dying, sometimes I was the one who killed you, sometimes it was my father, even my mother. I used to yearn for it, the day the _almighty honourable_ Ned Stark would die. But know that you are going to die, I feel rather disappointed."

Ned chuckled bitterly and said,"If you are here to gloat-"

"You are in no position to patronise me Lord Stark, I am not done yet. You're going to die soon, Joffrey is far to paranoid and idiotic to keep you alive, he will chop your head off sooner or later. Then your daughters will follow, then inevitably your sons and your wife until there are no Starks left on this earth. You see I could let this happen, a few years ago I would have. For my mother."

Ned swallowed loudly and said softly, "I loved your mother very much, I tried to protect her as best I could-"

"Well your best was not good enough, she was still raped and beaten on a daily basis while you returned home with _her son_ to your wife and your other son, to live a long and happy life, filled with love and happiness while she was throwing herself off the top of a castle. Forgive me if I think you are full of shit!" She snapped, her voice rising dangerously.

Ned Stark opened his mouth to protest but closed it helplessly and bowed his head in shame.

"She loved you all her life and never spoke one bad word of you. It frustrated my father to no end. Later on it frustrated me too, you ruined her and she never hated you. Not once. My mother was the kindest, most beautiful woman I knew and let it be known that she is the only person in this world I will ever love. She had a miserable life, one filled with grief and sorrow and rage and I was frequently told that I was the only happy thing she had in her life. It was a few years ago when I realised that was not true, you did make her happy. You gave my mother her first experience of happiness in her life, you gave her the will to live. It was then I realised that what you did do for her was for more valuable than what you didn't. You made sure that her _son_ , your _son,_ my _brother_ , had a home with people who loved him. You gave something to him that my mother would never be able to give to me. So that it was why I must say I am sorry you will die, for my brothers sake, but you have to sacrifice the few -innocent or not- too save the many."

Ned sat there in silence, and looked up at her, his grey eyes meeting her green ones. Neither of them liked the other, they despised each other but they were bonded together by something more powerful than hatred.

Family.

 **HELLOOOOOOO! It feels like I have not updated in forever! Sorry bout that, I have been so busy with schoolwork it is not even funny. So I hope you all like the developments in this chapter, if you have any complaints just let me know. Thank you to all those who favourited and followed this story, it means so much. I am a little bit disappointed with the lack of reviews for last chapter so can we try to get at least 3 for this one? Thanks so much! Until next time! :)**


	15. Chapter 14: The Unexpected

**DISCLAIMER! I sadly do not own anything from this universe except the original characters. Thank you.**

 **This story is not edited! Please try too ignore the grammatical errors.**

Chapter 14

Everra stared at the vast land in front of her, feeling the wind whip against her face. The sky had just started to brighten, first light had finally come. They had been travelling non stop since they had left Kings Landing, stopping only for a few hours at best, so the horses and the men could rest. But not Everra, never Everra.

She was plagued by the newfound worry that had erupted in her stomach every time she thought about the battle coming forth. She had the incessant feeling that something was wrong, may be it was just the thought of trying to fool Tywin Lannister. Cersei and Joffrey were power hungry fools, blinded by greed and power, Tywin Lannister however, was another being altogether. By far the greatest enemy Everra would ever have to fight in her lifetime.

Fear was foolish, she knew that. She wasn't afraid of Tywin Lannister; the worst enemies you have aren't the ones whom you fear, but the ones that you respect. Her years in Essos had taught her that. She remembered when she had first traveled there, on a ship with a name she did not remember but she remembered the captain quite well.

 _A girl stands at the front of a large boat, admiring the sea ahead of her. She had never seen the sea before and looked at it with childish curiosity. The sky was dark except from the light of the moon and she thought she was the only one awake on board. She ad only brought a few soldiers with her for her travels. She did not know how long she would be away from her home. If she could even call it that._

 _There was nothing there for her anymore. Only ghosts and demons that haunted her even now. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them there, saw him there, yelling at her, taunting her. Never leaving her alone. If she stayed at RedRun she would end up throwing herself off the top of the castle, just like her mother. She would be damned if she let her father win once more._

" _My lady," a gruff voice called._

 _The girl paused for a moment before turning around to see the source of the voice, her eyes wide with poor concealed panic._

" _Yes?" she asked, her voice small but firm._

 _The man looked at her with a warmth Everra had not seen in an older mans eyes in her entire life and it rattled her. He had scars on his left cheek, preventing anyone from calling the man handsome, but had a tall, musical build, with tan skin and thin straw like black hair. But his eyes were a warm brown, with flickers of gold when the sun hit them. He was a good man as far as Everra could tell. But then again, what did she know of good men?_

" _If I may suggest so, my lady, you should rest."_

 _Everra turned back to look at the sea ahead of her and gripped onto the wood in front of her. She heard the man sigh and walk hesitantly next too her, towering over her. He too turned to look at the sea ahead of them and said, "I'll never forget it."_

 _Everra looked at him from the corner of her eye and asked hesitantly, "Forget what?"_

 _The man looked down at her and smiled softly, "The first time I saw the sea."_

 _Everra peered up at him curiously and asked, "When was that?" Then her cheeks warmed slightly and she corrected herself, "My apologies, I did not mean to pry-"_

 _The man chuckled loudly and said, "You didn't pry, my lady."_

 _After a few moments he continued, "I was only but a few years old, a mere year younger than you I think, my lady. I was born on the north part of Volantis so I never saw the sea. I had just been sold to a magister in Pentos-"_

" _I thought slavery was forbidden in Essos?" Everra interrupted._

 _The man paused for a moment and the said gently, " Some Magisters believe themselves to be above the law, my lady. They do as they wish. The Magister's that are wealthy and powerful enough to do so. I had just been sent too Pentos and I remember myself being very…. scared. Until I saw this big beautiful thing, that was blue. I remember the feeling of fear fading away. I did not how to swim, or to fish or anything, but all I knew was that I never wanted to be in a place far from the sea ever again."_

 _They stood silently for a few moments before Everra said, "That was a nice story. Thank you for telling me."_

" _Your wish is my command, my lady," the man replied._

" _But there is one thing that simply makes no sense," she said childishly._

" _And what is that, my lady?" The man asked, his eyes filled with humour._

" _If you were a slave, how did you end up as a captain of a ship?" She asked, looking up at him, her wide green eyes filled with childlike confusion._

 _He never answered. Like she said before, what did she know of good men?_

Everra squinted her eyes and managed to make out the vague colours of red and gold. Lannister colours. As she had known beforehand, they had successfully laid siege on Riverrun and Jaime Lannister was expecting her and her 5,000 men. They did not suspect anything was amiss. At the very least, she hoped not. Jaime was intelligent but arrogant, Tywin was… Tywin. But she would not have too face the latter until later on in the war.

* * *

"Lady Everra, how pleasant it is too see you so soon," Jaime drawled, his mouth twisting into a smirk. He looked surprisingly relaxed and carefree for a man fighting a war, but then again, this was Jaime Lannister. A natural warrior, like her. Made to end mens lives.

"Likewise Ser Jaime," she said, swinging off her horse, the bottom of her dress touching the ground below her, "I would like to congratulate you on your victory, Ser Jaime, an astounding feat you have accomplished."

They stared at each other for a moment, brown eyes clashing against green before Jaime said mockingly, "I didn't expect a girl like you to involve yourself in battles, isn't a woman place at home?"

Everra smiled cooly and merely replied, "As you say, Ser Jaime."

Andromache growled slighting, causing Jaime to look down in alarm before Everra gently rubbed her hand against Andromache's smooth fur.

"Apologies, it has been a long journey from King's Landing."

Jaime eyed her for a moment before looking behind her, his eyebrows raising before turning too look at her, questingly, "Where is that man?"

"What man?" Everra asked innocently.

"The man that was with you at Winterfell. What was his name? It was something… "

"I sent Ser Daavos to organise the return of the rest of my soldiers from Essos, Ser Jaime, shortly after we left King's Landing."

Jaime chuckled, but not out of amusement, out of arrogance, "Well that's perfectly fine _my lady,_ except by the time the rest of your soldiers get here from Essos, the Stark boy will be returning home with his tail between his legs and his fathers head on a spike."

Some of the men behind laughed at this before being silenced by the cold look in Everra's eyes.

"Perhaps," she agreed.

If only they knew.

* * *

"Lord Tywin sent a raven that the Stark boy is marching to the green fork," a large man announced.

All the lords and lady were sitting in a large room and were sitting in front of a large oak table, covered with maps and papers and landmarks. Jaime Lannister was sitting at the head of the table, one of his elbows placed upright on the table, looking unsurprised at the news. Everra was sitting in the middle of the table, in between Lannister loyalists whose names she did not know. They were all eyeing her and though they never spoke it aloud, they all did not want her here.

They were all wearing their armour, whilst she was wearing a simple plain dress that hung loose on her hips and her hair was let loose till the small of her back. They thought she was a fool, but had heard enough rumours about her that they kept their mouths firmly shut. They may have been proud but at least they knew when to keep their mouths shut.

"The Stark boy does not come too his poor uncle's aid? How shameful. His father will be so disappointed," Jaime said mockingly.

The lords glanced at each other for a few moments before one spoke out, " Ser Jaime, should we not send out soldiers to assist your father-"

Jaime chuckled loudly and at the startled look of all the lords, he said, "I'm sorry, I was just laughing at the severity of your stupidity. I wonder do you try or does it just come naturally?"

The Lord's cheeks flushed red, looking down in humiliation, the rest of the Lords smirking as well. Everra just sat there, her eyes cold and face unresponsive.

Jaime noticed her lack of amusement and said, "My lady, are we men boring you? So sorry if we failed to meet your expectations, its just that us men don't talk about dresses or handsome boys, or whatever it is women talk about in their spare time."

Underneath the table, where her hands lay firmly placed in her lap, her hands started to twitch as the Lords let out chuckles around her. They were _pleased_ that she was being reprimanded. _Fools_ , she swore in her head, _arrogant fools._

Instead of answering Jaime, she turned to look at the rest of the Lords, her eyes were filled with cold fury and some of them immediately stopped chuckling whilst others continued mindlessly. She looked in front of her and met the eyes of the Lord sitting in front of her and said, "I'm sorry, who are you?"

The Lord stopped laughing, looking around uneasily, "Beg your pardon?"

"Who are you?" Everra continued, "What is your name, rank…. anything," she forced out, her eyes cold and unflinching.

The rest of the Lords including Jaime had stopped laughing and were looking on curiosity, some with fear in their eyes too. The air was suddenly thick with tension but Everra was not backing down.

The Lord answered after a few moments, " I am Lord Braeberic, forgive me for I do not see the relevance-"

"Lord Braeberic forgive _me_ , for I do not recognise that name. Are you a Lord of a great house? Are you the head of one of the wealthiest houses in the realm? Hmm?" Everra questioned, her eyes glancing around the room, with most Lords shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

The lord in front of her's neck was turning red with embarrassment and when he smoke it was with the utmost hesitation, "No-"

"No?" Everra questioned coldly, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow, " Then why in all the seven hells do you think you have the power or authority to laugh at someone whom is the head of one of the great houses of Westeros and one of the wealthiest houses in the land with 16,000 soldiers under her _skirt._ What do you have to offer?" She questioned, her voice cold.

When she said that her head turned to look at the rest of the Lords, some whom were diverting their gazes from hers and others whom were staring indifferently at her.

She then leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table, folding her hands underneath her chin and said, "Next time you open you're mouth to speak or breath in the same room as me I advise you too keep your mouth _shut._ Or else I will make sure you never have the ability to laugh at anyone ever again. Understood?"

Lord Braeberic nodded silently before Everra turned too look at Jaime, who was looking at her with something akin to surprise in his eyes.

"Sorry for the interruption, Ser Jaime. Please do continue."

He was silent for a few moments and simply chose to stare at her, before shaking his head slightly and then his familiar arrogant expression reappeared on his face.

"As you wish, my lady."

* * *

Once they were done, all the lords hurried out of the room and Everra was about to do the exact same, eager to get away from the golden haired Lannister before she was called back by Jaime.

"Not you, my lady. I still have some things I need to discuss with you."

Everra paused slightly, the doorway just beyond her reach, she watched as the servant shut the door, leaving only her and Jaime in the room. They could both hear the wind howling outside the tent and feel the cold air linger in the tent.

"You wished to speak too me Ser Jaime," she said, staring at him.

Jaime looked at for a few moments before taking a few sips of wine from his cup. When he was done, he poured another cup of wine and offered it too her, his hand outstretched. Everra shook her head slightly and watched as he gulped all of its contents in a matter of seconds.

'With all due respect Ser Jaime if you merely held me back so I could watch you drink-"

"Isn't patience supposed to be a lady's greatest virtue?' He asked, looking amused.

"Isn't sobriety supposed to be a mans greatest virtue?" She responded.

Her response made him pause for a moment before he raised his glass and muttered, "Fair enough."

"My father," he began and the paused before pouring himself another glass of wine and finishing it faster than the previous cup.

"My father," he tried again and the dissolved into a fit of laughter, leaving Everra to stand there, her arms at her side.

"Your father?" she asked impatiently. She had important matters to attend too.

"How old are you?" Jaime asked abruptly, all the laughter gone from his face and looked uncharacteristically serious.

Everra's cold green eyes started to fill with suspicion as she answered, " I recently turned ten and seven."

Jaime sighed bitterly before turning around and saying, "Have you any clue as to whom you wish too marry?"

"Ser Jaime I do not see how that is any concern of yours-"

"Believe me when I say, its not a concern of mine. Tell me, my lady, your ten and seven, what has your experience been with men? Are you a virgin or are you something wild under those fancy dresses of yours-"

He was cut off at the contact of her hand slapping his cheek, his face whipping towards the side as red started to appear on his cheek.

Everra was standing a short distance away from him now, her face expressionless and unapologetic.

Jaime, too her surprise, started to laugh loudly and then he spoke the words that as hard as it was to admit shocked her to her very core, "I do not think its smiled upon in society for a stepmother to strike their stepson. You know, we should probably work on that…"

Everra's eyes had widened slightly at the implication and then Jaime looked up, his brown bitter eyes meeting her widened green ones, "That is, if you accept my fathers proposal of course."

* * *

"My lady, are you alright?" Anna asked, her face stretched out in concern.

Everra peered up at her, letting her hand fall back down into the bathwater. It was late into the evening now and the camp had slowly started to quiet down. Everra had been unable to stop thinking of the afternoons events and kept on reliving it in he mind.

"My lady?" Anna tried again, gently brushing Everra's soaking hair. It was a habit that Everra would never admit aloud to liking.

"It's nothing Anna," she eventually replied, biting on her lower lip. They were both silent for the remainder of the time Everra was in the bath and Everra wordlessly stepped out of the bath, Anna immediately wrapped a robe around her, with Everra tying it together at her waist. Anna moved to step behind Everra and started to braid her hair, humming absentmindedly.

"Anna do you have any suitors?" Everra asked abruptly.

"My lady?"

"Is there anyone you have wished too marry, has anyone ever made any offers too you?"

Anna was silent for a few moments before answering, "There was once a man but it did not turn out as I hoped."

Everra nodded slightly and before she could ask something else a familiar voice called out from outside the tent, "Dominae?"

Anna looked at Everra in confusion before Everra called out, "Venient in!"

Youngbird, opened the flap of the tent and hurried in, looking stressed. When he noticed Everra standing there in nothing but her robe, he lowered his head and started to say, "Purgando dominae-"

"Its alright Youngbird you may speak the common tongue whilst in my chambers," Everra said, stepping towards him.

Youngbird looked at Anna distrustfully before his gaze flickered back towards Everra and he said, his voice catching, "We are having some difficulties with the prisoner, my lady-"

"What kind of difficulties?" Everra asked.

"They are refusing to eat and are making loud noises, my lady. I fear the Lannisters will discover them and then you will be discovered, my lady. I thought that I should consult with you before taking any action," he finished.

"Thank you for coming to me Youngbird," Everra said, her green eyes piercing into his and then she said, "Take me to them. The gods know they will not shut up."

* * *

Robb looked down at the maps in front of him, feeling stomach tighten with nerves. His plan was risky, but hopefully, if the gods were good, he would win and get his father back. And Sansa. And Arya. And even Jon too.

Robb did not why he was surprised when the cold Lady Everra sided with the Lannister's but he could not deny that when he found out, he felt a slight twinge of anger. Then he felt worried. Because she had Jon and Jon was his brother, despite what his mother said and he mattered to him the same amount that Sansa and Arya did.

 _How did this happen?_ He thought, frustrated. Their family had never been perfect but they had been happy. Even when his mother would glare at Jon with a coldness so unlike her, they had all been happy. Safe. Content. Now, their family was torn all over the bloody country and Robb could practically feel his worry replace where his heart was so it continuously pumped worry instead of blood around his body.

At least his mother was safe, and Bran was awake and Rickon was safe up at Winterfell. Most of his brothers were safe. His mother though was right here with him and Robb was suddenly plagued with the look in her eye as she announced Lord Walder Freys terms. Marriage. To one of his daughters.

Robb had heard of marriage pacts before and had hoped that when he came of age he would have a slight say in whom he married. He knew it had to be a lady of noble birth, he _knew_ that, despite what his heart may have wanted in the future.

He wanted to push it out of his mind and try to ignore it for as long as he could, for all he knew he would die when they attacked Rivverun. Walder Frey could die as well and Robb hated himself for the brief moment when he wished the rude old man would die before the war was over so he did not have to marry one of his daughters. But it was only for a brief moment and the guilt that had been bothering him ever since that thought crossed his mind almost matched the worry he had for his father, brother and sisters. Almost.

 _The marriage is only a sacrifice you must make to get your father, brother and sisters back_ , he tried to convince himself. But for some unfathomable reason, whenever Robb questioned himself as too whom he would rather marry if not the Frey girl he would feel himself tense slightly before forcing the thought out of his mind. He had no time for childish crushes. He had a war too win.

He would be damned if he let that green-eyed raven haired girl stop him from doing so. Besides, she wanted him dead, what good could come from liking someone whom wanted you in the ground?

 **A/N HELLOOOO MY LOVELIES! Before I mention some of the notes I have in this chapter I would just like to thank all of you AMAZING people for liking and reviewing this story. This story is almost at 100 follows and has over 11,000+ hits, You guys make me cry. Literally. Anyway, lets move away from the sobbing mess that is myself, I hope you guys liked how i wrote Jaime. I mean he is probably,-besides tyrion- the hardest canon character for me too write. Capturing his brilliance his hard as hell. Hope you guys liked it though, if you have any complaints or suggestions, please tell me. I hoped you guys liked the glimpse into Everra's journeys in Essos. I mean, her time in Essos and the people she met there had a large role in shaping who she is now. So it was nice to write about some of the positive moments in her life. I hoped you guys liked the twist with Tywin. I mean too me, it kinda made sense for her to get the offer from her, but i'll probably expand more on that next chapter, as well as her response. Moving on, I'd like for you guys to guess who the prisoner is. I mean, it is a little bit obvious, but still. Anyway, Robb's POV is back… for I don't know how long. I mean the character is going to play a major part in the story, as you guys can already tell by now but I don't know if I'll often write in his Pov. Did you guys like the small revelation that Robb has like a childish crush on Everra? Not too say that he is in love with her. HE IS NOT. Just too clarify. This story isn't about romance… mainly anyway.**

 **Oh and before I forget, for the parts where Youngbird is speaking valerian, I'm guessing most of you could tell it was not really valerian. Its latin, I couldn't find a proper dictionary for proper valerian and i heard the show used latin writing to pass as valerian at some point on the show.. so the translations will be provided below. Remember, your reviews encourage me like nothing else! Thanks again guys! You are the best!**

 **Dominae-** my lady

 **Venient in** \- come in

 **Purgando** \- apologies


	16. Chapter 15: The Lion Roared

**DISCLAIMER! I own nothing of this universe except the original characters.**

 **A/N This story is also not edited. Please try to ignore all grammatical errors.**

Chapter 15

Everra was standing near her bed when Anna hesitantly entered her tent. When she noticed that Everra was awake, as per usual, she relaxed and walked in quietly.

To Anna's immediate surprise, there were clothes already laid out on the bed, but not Lady Everra's typical clothing.

Laid out on the bed, was a dark green tunic with a similar dark green bodice with brown laces at the front, the green seemed to reach Lady Everra's knee's and dark brown pants were also laid out. But what startled Anna the most were the numerous weapons laid out along side the clothing. From knives too swords, to a bow and arrow, it seemed too much for one person.

"You seem shocked," Everra observed.

Anna eyes met hers and she said breathlessly, "I didn't expect…. I didn't expect _this_." Anna waved her hand in the direction of the weapons.

Everra merely raised an eyebrow in response and snapped coldly, "This is war Anna. You are going to be seeing a lot worse than a few weapons."

Anna knew it was true and the fact made her shiver in disgust. She just wanted too go home.

"As you say, my lady," is merely all she responded.

As they say, war is not for the lighthearted.

* * *

"Lady Everra how great it is too see you and your…. _pet,_ " Jaime drawled out, looking at Andromache for a brief moment before returning too look at Everra.

Everra didn't answer. She did not understand why this _proposal…_ dare she say it, _surprised_ her. She knew why Tywin wished too marry her. He despised Tyrion and seeing as he was his heir…. he needed more. The thought of bearing any Lannister children revolted her to her very core.

"So what do you say?" Jaime questioned mockingly, his eyes gleamed with bitterness and arrogance, "Should I begin to call you mother? Or shall I write too my father and let him know that his _dear dear_ heart has been broken?"

"Neither," Everra responded, "My answer remains the same as the previous night, Ser Jaime. I need time too think over the proposal."

Jaime shrugged casually and took a large bite out of his apple, lifting his feet onto the table in front of him and proceeded to ignore the woman standing in front of him.

"Why are you still here?" He asked, one of his eyebrows raising at the sight of her still standing there.

"I was wondering if we had any news of the whereabouts of Lord Tyrion?" Everra asked.

This made Jaime pause for a moment before his jaw started to quicken its movements and his teeth began to grind together, "Why do you ask?" He gritted out.

If there was any weakness too Jaime it was his family, his brother, his father, his _sister,_ his nephews and nieces…

"I was merely wondering Ser Jaime. I know that you care deeply about your family, it must pain you too leave your dear unprotected _nephew_ alone in King's landing."

Jaime's head snapped up too look at hers and his brown eyes had darkened considerably with anger, but before he could respond Everra had already curtsied mockingly and was out of the tent faster than he could blink, Andromache right at her heels.

 _Bitch,_ he thought.

* * *

Everra stood near the outskirt of her armies camp, feeling the wind whip against her hair, causing her long raven locks to tangle together.

She knew that they were out there, somewhere, on their way too the Lannister camp and hers. It was an abnormal feeling, waiting for someone to attack you. There was a sense of impending doom, almost as if she was signing her own death sentence, the same way Ned Stark did the moment he decided to become the King's hand.

 _Fate,_ she mused, _had a funny way of working._

She could hear the men trying with each other from so far away. The sound almost comforted her, the sound of war. Whilst most people hated war, hated battle, Everra thrived on it. She loved the feeling that came over her when she was battling someone, the feeling of invincibility. The slowness that comes upon you that makes you feel as though you are untouchable. As though nothing could ever harm you. The moment her sword clashed with another's was the moment she felt closest to being alive.

She wondered what that said about her.

It was that moment when it occurred too her the sudden yells that had come over the camp. Distant unfamiliar yells, yells of panic, coming over from the Lannister camp.

She knew what it meant but for several moments she did not move. She simply observed the nature around her and was struck by the image of the corpses that would be laying there soon enough.

"My lady," Youngbird called out.

Everra turned too face him and was suddenly hit with the burden of looking her soldiers in the eye and telling them too go and die for her. It was a casualty of war.

She had learnt that a long time ago. Not everyone could survive.

"I know," she responded and then hurried too his side, making her way to the panicked screams.

* * *

"My lady how generous of you too join us," Jaime remarked from atop of his horse. Soldiers were hurrying about, gathering swords and marching into formation. They were being lured into The Whispering Wood by the Stark forces, too 'send that stark boy home with his tail between his legs'.

Everra felt very tempted too laugh.

"We heard that the Starks were on their way to your father by the Green Fork," she said instead.

"Well in case you haven't noticed that piece of information seems to be false," Jamie snapped in response,"We will meet the Stark boy in the whispering wood."

Everra noticed that Jaime seemed more… _surprised_ than he let on. He hadn't expected this from Robb. None of them had, his arrogance was just the mask he usually wore. Nothing more nothing less.

 _Pathetic_ , she thought but merely said, "My army will ride behind yours, Ser Jaime. May the gods be with you."

And with that, he was gone, riding towards his inevitable capture.

* * *

Everra walked up and down the front line slowly, her sword drawn. Her unsullied were standing still in front of her, waiting for her too speak. The wood was still quiet, no screams or bloodshed. Just the calm before the storm.

"Remember who the real enemy is," she called out. The soldiers immediately banged their spears against their shields.

"Remember too always go for the kill," she continued, they responded the same way as before.

"I am only going to ask for you one simple thing," she said, her voice projected so that they all could hear her and her words got carried in the wind, "Fight for me."

And with that, the lion screamed.

* * *

They all stood there, surrounded by snow and trees, covered in blood that was not theirs. Their hearts were still pounding with adrenaline, with fear. But there was a sense of victory near the surface, but anger too. No one quite knew what to do next. Robb did not know what to do next, he was still reeling from the shock of his victory. They had won.

But Robb knew he could not celebrate just yet, he still had a green eyed problem to deal with.

"Robb," Catelyn said uneasily, her worried blue eyes staring into his own.

It was at that moment that Robb realised that he had been standing there silent for several moments. It came to his attention as well that there were five horses galloping towards the group and he saw out of the corner of his eye Theon draw out his word, along with the rest of the Lords.

"No," he said calmly, "Put your swords away."

He recognised whom were on the horses. He somehow knew they would not harm him. They stood there, waiting patiently, until the horses drew near and the riders climbed down off their saddles, their horses obediently waiting.

There were four men, one of them being Jon.

Jon.

Robb could not describe the amount of relief he felt at the sight of his brother being alive. When he saw him in battle, he had feared he may loose him too.

And one woman. The woman whom, he dare say, outsmarted them all.

"Robb," Catelyn whispered furiously, her blue eyes darting nervously towards his, all signs of happiness and relief disappearing from her face.

The man on his knees, his hands shackled together, suddenly snapped too life at the woman approaching them, roaring out, "You fucking-"

Theon had reached out and slammed his fist into the Lannister's face, effectively silencing him.

The group had stopped a few meters away from them but Robb could only recognise three of the five faces. Jon, Everra, the man who had accompanied her to Winterfell so long ago and two other unidentified men.

"I see you have the Kinglsayer," Lady Everra said, her voice cold. Her cheeks were still painted pink from excursion and there was a long scratch on one of her cheeks but she seemed otherwise unharmed.

"Thanks too you if I remember correctly my lady," Robb answered thankfully.

He saw his mother snap her eyes towards his but he ignored her gaze, choosing too focus on the woman in front of him.

They stood in silence once more, the tension quickly building.

"Lady Everra," he heard his mother say and Robb's gaze flickered towards his mother, choosing to let her speak.

"Lady Stark," the younger woman returned.

"Forgive me if I am surprised to see you here my lady, I was told that you had allied with the Lannister's."

"No fault of you're own, my lady, everyone thought I had," she replied. Her words seemed to make Jaime fidget in anger as he glared at her with his typical smirk planted on his face.

"It would seem that the Lannister's are easier too fool than one would think," she continued on, her gaze returning too Robb's.

Robb saw his Lords shake their heads and Lord Umber yell, "Don't listen to her Lord Stark, she'll trick you over, this a scheme of the Lannister's. I can smell their lion piss all over it."

The men cheered loudly but Robb kept his gaze on Lady Everra, not believing the Greatjon's words.

He had seen the surprise on Jaime Lannister's face when Jon, Ser Daavos and the other two unnamed men had appeared on the hills with thousands of Essosi men behind them. He had seen the surprised look on the Kingslayer's face as Lady Everra's sword clashed with his, saving Robb's life.

"Do you really think that the Lannister's would have let half of their army be slaughtered simply so they could put up a ruse? Or are you simply that daft that you did not see me save your liege Lord's life," Lady Everra snapped.

The Greatjon unsheathed his sword in anger and took a step forward whilst the men on the sides of Lady Everra did the same but stopped at the flicker of her hand.

"Stop," Robb spoke. Lord Umber turned too look at him in outrage and cried out, "My lord she is a Lannister spy-"

"No she is not," Robb said, "What she says is true, she did in fact distract the Kingslayer long enough so some of our men could capture him."

Just as Lord Umber and Theon were about too speak up again, Robb cut them off, saying, "Now, I don't trust her, but I do trust my brother. Jon, will you tell us the truth?" He asked.

He met his half brother's gaze and saw him nod hesitantly and then he spoke, "I will."

"Go to him," Lady Everra said, "Ease his troubled mind from his doubts, in the meantime, I will return to my men. Send for me when you come to your conclusion, _young wolf_."

With that, she turned swiftly on her heel and climbed back onto her horse, the other men doing the same.

Robb took a few steps forward and called out, "You do understand why I don't trust you, my lady?"

Lady Everra's head turned back to face him and Robb could have sworn to all the gods that for a moment she had smiled, "Not trusting me has been the smartest thing you have done since you declared war."

With that, they were gone.

* * *

"Jon," Robb said, "What in all seven hells is going on?"

"You just beat the Lannister's," Jon replied.

Robb scowled slightly at the remark and then sighed, "I did didn't I?"

"This isn't the time for jokes Robb," Catelyn snapped, "Find out if he speaks the truth."

His mother had vehemently refused to wait outside and had stormed into his tent, her blue eyes glaring into Jon's brown ones.

"Mother," Robb warned, "Now is not the time for petty resentment."

Catelyn glared at him, her blue eyes cold and Robb felt a rush of guilt before turning back too look at Jon.

"What is going on?" He asked again.

Jon swallowed loudly and said, 'Where do you want me too start?"

"From the beginning," Robb said aimlessly, "Is she trustworthy?"

Jon started his tale from beginning to end and when he was finished Robb did not quite know what too say. Until first light today he thought she wanted him dead, too find out otherwise was rather….shocking.

They were all silent until Jon said gently, "What's more Robb…. I think she has Arya."

Both Robb and Catelyn's head snapped up and they both simultaneously exclaimed, "Arya?"

Jon nodded, confirming the unbelievable truth.

Robb was silent for a few moments. Undecided.

What he chose to do in those few moments would decide the outcome of this war. Of whether he lived or died. Of whether he won.

He knew his decision the moment he had seen her sword clash with Jaime Lannister's.

* * *

Daavos paced in front of Everra, from where she was sitting behind her desk in her tent, Andromache licking her paws causally nearby.

"What is he decides to attack us my lady?" Daavos was questioning.

Everra merely lifted an eyebrow at him and said, "Daavos calm down. He will not attack us. The boy is young but not stupid."

"What if the bastard fed him lies-"

"Do not call Jon a bastard, Daavos," She warned, but he payed her no attention.

"Should we have brought the stark girl with us? Should we hold her hostage? Plead for forgiveness to the Lannisters?" He rambled on.

"We sent Tywin Lannister's eldest son into the heart of their enemy. To be tortured and held captive and you believe that they will forgive us if we apologised?"

That made Daavos stop in his steps for a few moments before sheepishly admitting, "Perhaps you are right my lady, but forgive me if I have doubts that the Stark boy will come to his senses. He has not yet won a battle-"

"You are mistaken Daavos," Everra said, "The Stark boy defeated the Lannister's earlier on in the day. Or have you forgotten the battle that happened merely hours beforehand?"

Daavos's blonde eyebrows frowned slightly and he exclaimed, "My lady, _you_ won the battle for him-"

"That is _not_ true. He would have won the battle regardless of whether or not we had been there Daavos. We both already know that. We just helped in making the Lannister's look like fools. But Robb won the battle. All he needs to do now is win the war."

Daavos sighed loudly and took a seat in front of Everra, his voice laced with amusement, "If only it were that easy."

Everra's eyes met his and for a split second, Everra saw the fear held in his eyes.

"Aren't you afraid of dying my lady?" Daavos asked.

"Everyones afraid of something Daavos," she replied, "Fear's have always been a mans greatest weakness. Anyones greatest weakness. I simply think that death is the least thing one should fear."

Daavos scoffed loudly, but not in an insulting manner, more as if he wished he could share the same sentiment.

He was about too respond when they both heard the distant sound of horses approaching and then the sound of one single voice. A familiar voice, calling out for her.

"I know the Stark boy better than both you and him know, Daavos," She said, standing up from her chair and making her way towards the entrance of her tent. Andromache obediently came too her side, purring softly.

* * *

Robb stood in the middle of his mother and Jon, with numerous soldiers standing behind him with their swords drawn. Theon was holding the reigns of his and Jon's horses, while his mother still stayed a top of he horse. She could not bare to get her hopes up.

Numerous of soldiers were standing in lines, silent and unresponsive but with their spears drawn out, ready to strike at any given moment.

"Unsullied," Jon murmured at his side.

Robb took a few steps forward, speaking loudly, "We wish to speak to Lady Everra."

Not one soldier moved or spoke. They merely looked forward, only their eyes showing any signs of movement. Robb was about too try again before a voice broke out, "Sorry too have kept you waiting, my lord."

Lady Everra came into sight, with a large sleek black panther obediently at her side. Robb heard Greywind growl at his side and placed his hand comfortingly on his back, rubbing gently. Grey wind immediately relaxed under Robbs' palm but was still on the alert.

"My lady," Robb said, "It has come to my knowledge that my sister is in your possession."

She raised an eyebrow at him and countered, "If she is in my possession was you seem to have been informed off," her eyes drifted to Jon's for a brief moment before returning too look at his, "what would happen next?"

"Then, after much consideration, we will become allies. As that is what you wished for, correct?"

Her lips quirked up at his last comment and her green eyes looked at him observantly for few moments before she commanded something to a nearby soldier in a foreign language.

"You made a wise choice today my lord," she said, her eyes meeting his and then glanced towards his side.

"Jon," she called out, "Come."

Jon looked uneasily at Robb for a brief moment before moving forward towards Lady Everra, where a tanned tattooed man had stood next too her and grasped Jon's shoulder when he was on their side.

Once Jon was there, Lady Everra took a few steps forward and said, "Now, that we are on the same side, Stark, I should let you know that I have a plan."

Robb's eyebrows raised at this and just as he was about to question her she cut him off and said, "It begins with a certain prisoner, come along now, Stark, we have much to discuss."

 **A/N Heyyyy guuyyysss sorry this took so long to upload, last week was really stressful and busy. A swim meet, tests, homework… ugh. Anyway, I'm back now and I would just like too say thank you for the massive response last chapter. It means so much too me, i hope you all liked this one. It took me a while to write and I chose not too include the battle in the writing and instead just mention what happened in the aftermath because I have something planned for future. Not going too say what though. Obviously. For Everra's battle outfit I wanted it too be something that she could move more freely in. Not like Brienne whose armour looks so heavy, too me Everra struck me as the kind of warrior who likes to move freely and quickly. So her armour kind of Looks like Tauriels from the last two the hobbit movies. Thanks so much for everything! and remember too review! That is my inspiration! Until next time.**


	17. Chapter 16: Every last one of them

**DISCLAIMER! I own nothing, everything belongs to either George R.R. Martin or the creators of the show. I own nothing except the original characters. Also, this story is not edited, please try to ignore all grammatical errors.**

Chapter 16

"No," Robb exclaimed loudly, "Absolutely not."

Everra rolled her eyes at his loud outburst and her eyes flickered around the tent, waiting for him to calm himself. The Lords had exited the room only moments before, lagging with exhaustion. They had finally managed to quell what was left of the Lannister camps, they were still determining their next move.

Everra could tell that all the Stark wanted to do was get his father back and return to Winterfell, safe and sound, but she knew that this war could continue long after Ned Stark was executed. Except, she could not exactly tell him that.

"The point of this war is to retrieve my father, not to play some game, Lady Everra," Robb said angrily, standing up from his chair and began pacing across the room.

Everra did not answer for a few moments before saying, "You started playing the game the moment you rose against the Lannister's-"

"No, I declared war to get my family back."

Everra sighed loudly, she was beginning to become frustrated with his fixation with honour. They were fighting a war, they still had the blood of the men they killed under their nails and now he decided to stick to the honourable road.

 _Despite being a skilled strategist he still is an honourable fool,_ she observed. That was what got him killed in the first place.

"While your intentions are honourable that is not going to make you survive this war with your family and armies still intact. The Lannister's are still reeling from their defeat, you won a battle, not the war. It is most unlikely that they will allow themselves to be caught off guard once more, especially now that we have Tywin Lannister's favourite son. We made them look like fools, they were fooled by a lady, a lady whom is merely ten and seven and whom is practically a foreigner-"

"That may be how you win your battles, with lies and deceit-"

"Do you not understand that taking the honourable road will get you killed? I do not particularly care for you Stark, but without you there is no chance of us defeating the Lannister's. They still have a bigger army than us, despite the Frey's and my contribution."

They were both silent, Robb was still not facing her, his mind swarming with all his thoughts.

"I want to win this war," he said, "but I want to do it the right way."

Everra merely responded, "Do you not understand? You do not win wars, you survive them. We need someone to… work with us, in the heart of our enemies. We need someone who despises the Lannister's as much as you do. The plan is risky, but so is war."

Robb's blue eyes were conflicted as he observed the emotionless girl sitting in front of him, but even though he did not agree with it, deep down in his heart he knew she was right.

"Allow me too… revise this plan. I will let you know soon enough."

Everra nodded slightly and then stood up from her chair, knowing that it was not worth to argue with him further, he would still cling to his honourable ideals.

She had just reached the exit of the tent when he called out, "My lady, I never got the chance to thank you."

She turned to face him once more and merely raised an eyebrow at his statement, "For bringing me my sister," he clarified.

She regarded him for a few moments before swiftly turning on her feet and walked out of the tent.

She had had enough of the Stark for one day.

* * *

"I warned you of the dangers of siding with the Stark," Daavos said once Everra had finished telling him about her meeting with Robb.

"You once told me all alliances are risky Daavos," she reminded him, pouring herself a glass of water.

"This is different-" Daavos insisted, "than having an alliance with the Dothraki so they did not raid your army, my lady. The Starks are different, they take the 'honourable road'. It will get them killed."

Everra didn't respond for a few moments, allowing herself to gulp her water down in one large gulp. Daavos has a valid argument, the Starks were different than them. Their honour got them killed before, it could get them killed again, regardless of whether or not she helped them.

"It will get our army killed."

"Our army, or me?" She asked.

"There is no army without you, my lady," Daavos responded.

"Then do your job and protect me."

* * *

Robb quietly crept into the tent, eager to not waken the sleeping girl in her bed. His mother was sitting on a chair next to her, her blue eyes still filled with relief at the sight of her youngest daughter.

Arya had been kept well hidden from the Lannister's and since her presence was kept under the utmost secrecy, she had been hidden inside a crate, eating little to nothing. She had been kept safe though, regardless of the conditions. She had flown into her mother's arms before climbing into his and then Jon's. Crying and asking questions about their father, sobbing her eyes out. The Arya whom had pretended to be fearless was gone, and in her place was a girl whom simply wanted too go home. Not that Robb blamed her, he wanted to go home too.

Catelyn's head snapped up at the sound of his footsteps but she relaxed at the sight of him and rose from her chair, pulling him into a hug.

He wrapped his arms around her as well, feeling like a child once more.

"You've made me so proud," she whispered, stroking the back of his curls, "Both your father and I so proud."

He pulled away reluctantly and whispered, "How is she?"

"Tired," Catelyn replied, "She wants to go home. Wants too see Bran and Rickon. She talks about Sansa and your father in her sleep. She's finally settled down."

She walked back over to Arya and sat back in her chair, stroking her hair.

"We have Lady Everra too thank for bringing her back to us," Robb said.

Catelyn stiffened and dropped her hand from Arya's hair, "Indeed we do."

She turned to face her son and looked at him with the utmost concern, but Robb diverted his eyes from hers. He did not want her too know what was going on inside his head.

"A mother can always sense when something is bothering one of their children. What is bothering you?" She asked and leaned over to grasp his hand in hers.

Robb didn't answer. He just continued to watch Arya breathe.

"I know you didn't come here to watch your sister sleep, Robb. Tell me what is troubling you?" She questioned.

"Do you want father and Sansa back, mother?" He asked instead.

She looked at him strangely, as if she wanted to tell what he was thinking.

"Yes," she said hesitantly, "More than anything."

"Would you do whatever it took to get them back?" he asked.

She was silent for a few moments, before saying, "Yes I would."

"Listen to me, my son. War isn't easy but you made a decision the day you rose against the Lannister's. You want to get your father and sister back, you must do whatever feels right to you to defeat your enemies. What did I tell you when you were younger?" She said.

"You can't play fire with fire," they finished together.

 _If only it were that simple_ , Robb thought, pulling his hand away from his mothers.

If only.

* * *

Jon brushed past a few soldiers, walking hurriedly towards the tent in from of him. Since he was only a soldier in training, he turned into an errand boy. Being sent across the camp for various sorts of errands by various different people. Youngbird had sent Jon to retrieve something for him from the healing camp. Jon was eager to do anything, but as the day wore on he began to become frustrated. He wanted too do something, anything. He wanted to be of importance, not an errand boy.

He entered the tent with a sigh and was surprised at the sight of Anna helping a healer with a soldier. The tent was flooded with people, and Jon's ears were threatening to burst at the sound of agonising screams. They may have one the battle, but that did not mean there were not any wounded.

As Jon moved forth, he saw what Anna and the healer were doing; they were cutting off the man's leg. He was withering and fighting as hard as he could, his eyes wide with terror that bore into Jon's eyes. Before he knew what he was doing he was pushing the soldier down onto the cot and flickered his eyes to the healer in front of him because he couldn't bare looking into the soldiers panicked and terrified eyes.

Anna was looking at him in gratitude, her brown eyes thankful but tired and worn. The gods knew how long she had been here for. She had never struck him as the person whom could handle blood, but it seems that he was mistaken.

 _Please_ , the soldiers eyes were whispering, _please._

It was then that the saw dug into his skin and he suddenly erupted beneath Jon, his agonised screams muffled against the cloth wrapped around his mouth. Jon winced at the sight of the blood spilling in front of him and tried too look at anywhere else. The floor, the roof, Anna.

Anna whom was trying her very best to calm the soldier down, feverishly stroking her hands through his hair and whispering sweet nothings to him.

When it was over, the soldier had sunken into a deep sleep from the pain but Anna was still stroking the man's hair in attempt to comfort him still.

It was then that Jon remembered that he had something to do here.

His eyes flickered to the healer in front of him, an old woman whose hands looked firm and strong and asked, "Youngbird says that he needs a healer for something. He said that he would say what it was when you get there. Can you leave for a few moments?"

The healer eyes flickered towards Anna for a few moments, before nodding wordlessly.

Before they left, Anna's eyes met Jon's once more and she smiled up at him. It was a small smile, a thankful one.

He simply nodded in response before gesturing to the healer too come with him. Then they left, leaving the agonising screams of the wounded behind.

* * *

When Everra woke the next day, she felt a heaviness tugging at her stomach. She knew that this day was coming, but she still did not fully know how she felt about it.

The death of her mothers lover.

The death of half brother's father.

She had conflicted feelings toward Ned Stark's death. Of course, she knew he had too die, this war would not continue without his death. Robb had to become King and Jon…

Well she did not quite know what to do about Jon. She also did not know how she felt about him either. He looked so much like her mother- like _their_ mother that sometimes it almost felt as though she was alive again.

Everra did not like that. Her mother was something that was supposed to be _hers_ , her mother was the only person she had ever loved and she wanted to keep it that way. Having a constant reminder of her death was…unraveling.

Not that Jon knew of course, he could not know. At least, not right now.

Everra was not a particularly emotional person, but she knew what losing a loved one felt like. However long ago it was, she remembered how it felt. How it felt to see her mothers cracked and bloody skull on the courtyard fall, so dismembered and horrifying that it took a while for everyone to realise it was her.

Everra had though. She would recognise her mother anywhere.

Talia Legrath. Mother of two. Wife to Everth Legrath.

How revolting.

* * *

Arya was holding on tightly to Catelyn, her face buried in her hair.

Robb felt a tug in his stomach as he watched the goodbye between his mother and sister. Despite how hard it was though, he knew it had to happen. War was not a place for someone of Arya's age, despite how adventurous and brave they may seem.

The Lannister's had taken enough from them, he would not let them take away Arya's spirit too.

"I don't want too go," Arya was saying.

Robb could still hear her even though her voice was muffled by their mother's hair, whom was rubbing her hand down Arya's back comfortingly.

He had offered his mother the opportunity to leave with Arya, to go back to Winterfell, but she had refused after a few moments of hesitation. Saying that she wanted to say for slightly longer. Robb almost argued with her, but knew that once his mother made up her mind it would not be changed. So he reluctantly agreed for her stay even though he felt a lot better knowing that his loved ones were safe in Winterfell. Where no Lannister could harm them.

For the time being.

Robb shook his head gently and noticed that Jon was looking at him worriedly, as well as Theon, whom was standing a few steps away from him. Lady Everra was there too, watching Arya and Catelyn with her usual cool expression, never breaking face.

Sometimes he wondered how she managed that, always having that emotionless expression on her face. It was unravelling, how someone so young could be so cold. Robb had more important things to worry about then Lady Everra's coldness.

When his mother and Arya finally pulled away from the other, Arya immediately launched herself into Robb's arms.

"Hey," he said, chuckling slightly as the breathe was knocked out of him, " you've grown bigger."

"You can win Robb," Arya said, her face against his neck, "You beat them once, you can beat them again."

"I'll try, Arya, I promise I'll try."

After a few moments Robb pulled away and muttered, "Get along now, Arya. You must leave soon."

Everra felt rather indifferent towards the large display of affection. If anything, it rather bored her. She liked Arya more than most children though, she admired the girls spirit.

She watched quietly as Jon and Arya hugged each other tightly and for a brief second, wondered if she would ever care about Jon as much. It was highly unlikely, but Everra still wondered for a brief second.

When they finally broke away from each other, Arya turned too look at her with a hardness in her eyes that Everra had never seen a child have before.

"Will you take care of my brothers?" Arya asked.

Everra felt something akin to amusement creep up inside her as she responded, " I'll make sure they do not die."

Arya nodded slightly as if to say _good enough._

"Thank you," she added, as if she just remembered that the reason why she was here was because of her.

Everra did not respond but merely reached for something under her cloak and offered it to the young girl in front of her, "I believe this belongs to you."

Arya's eyes widened as she realised what it was in front of her, "Needle!" She cried out and yanked the thin sword out of her hands.

"Thank you," she said, "I thought I lost it."

Everra shifted back uncomfortably, not liking the way the young girl was looking at her.

Before she realised what was happening, Arya had reached forward and wrapped her arms around Everra's waist. Everra stiffened at the contact and looked down at the girl but kept her arms at her sides. She was not about to pretend that the girl meant a lot to her.

Barely anything did, she would not lie about it just for a girl.

"Move along now," she said and gently pushed Arya away, eager for the girls hands to be off of her.

Finally, after a while, Arya was put upon her horse along with some knight whom Everra did not know, along with ten other on horse back.

Then they all rode off, back too Winterfell, where Arya would wait impatiently for the rest of her family too come home.

* * *

Everra sat in her chair, Andromache placing her head in her lap. She played one of her hands on top of her head and petted her softly, Andromache purring in response.

"Spoiled," Everra muttered but continued to pet her absentmindedly. She took a large gulp of her water and placed her glass back on the table. She was preoccupied by the thoughts in her head, if the Stark boy did not agree to the plan she suggested, what would she do with the prisoner? Let him go?

Dammit she hated this uncertainty, it annoyed her. She wanted the Stark boy to come to his senses though, having a spy in the capital, most of all a spy one would least expect is an advantage the Lannister's would not have.

Almost as if he had heard her thoughts, Robb entered her tent, his blue eyes looking resigned.

She turned too look at him and made a half hearted attempt to stand and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say something he said, "I want to see him."

"As you wish, my lord, " she said.

Everra led Robb to the back of the camps, passing by numerous soldiers who stopped what they were doing the moment they saw her and nodded in her direction, muttering, 'Dominae'.

It was only when they walked by Jon and Youngbird did Everra finally stop. Jon was carrying a large spear and Youngbird had been talking to him when Everra said, "Youngbird, I am going to need you to come with us."

Youngbird immediately moved towards her and Robb and when he did he turned too look back at Jon, whom was staring at them with curiosity.

"You can come too Jon," Everra said.

She ignored the looks of surprise both Youngbird and Robb sent her way and said to Jon whom was about to place down his spear, "No, bring that with you. Chances are we may need it."

When they finally reached the edge of the camp only a single lone tent stood. It was quiet, a large contrast to the other tents a few meters behind.

Everra looked sideways quickly and when she noticed that no one was around she stepped into the tent, Robb, Jon and Youngbird following closely behind her.

All that was inside the tent were crates and boxes.

Not a single person in sight.

"Where is he?" Robb asked loudly.

Everra had begun to examine some of the crates, her green eyes flickering over each and every one.

She took a step forward when her eyes landed on a medium sized crate, with a few holes on the side.

"Sorry my lord, but when we had to take as drastic measures to hide him as we did your sister. We could not have the Lannister's find him, of course. That would have ruined everything."

Robb and Jon frowned at her, but Robb's blue eye's widened in realisation.

Everra gestured towards Jon and said, "Keep that spear at the ready, I suspect he will be quite angry."

She took a few steps forward until she reached the crate and pushed it over, so it was facing Robb. Then she gently pulled the lid off, allowing a body to roll our of it immediately. His groans filled the air the second his back hit the floor and Everra moved back towards Robb and Jon. The body's stench was revolting.

"So," _cough,_ " sorry, " _cough_ , "If I revolt you my lady, but it would seem that that is what happens when you are held captive for weeks on end," Tyrion rasped out.

"No fault of yours, my lord," Everra replied, her eyes trained on the small rasping man.

Robb glanced at her from the corner of his eye and moved forth hesitantly and when Tyrion noticed him, he laughed loudly, his voice weak.

"You're still alive! Damn, and here I thought my brother would kill you," Tyrion said sarcastically.

Robb stiffened at his words and said, "You'll be joining him sooner or later."

He then turned around to look at Everra and nodded at her.

Everra nodded back at him approvingly and muttered to Youngbird, "Chain him up on a tree and gag him. He is not quite ready for what we have planned yet."

Youngbird nodded accordingly and moved towards Tyrion, whom began to squirm at the sight of him.

"Going to lock me up again so soon my lady," Tyrion rasped out, "and here I thought you enjoyed my company."

Youngbird turned too look at Everra for a few moments and looked at her almost as if he was asking her something. She nodded back at him and before Robb and Jon could comprehend what was happening, Youngbird had whacked Tyrion at the back of the head, causing him to fall into a deep sleep.

Robb looked at Everra, his eyes filled with disapproval before she rolled her eyes and said, "He is not dead, he had merely been put to sleep for a while."

Robb merely shook his head in response before saying, "So what do we do with him now?"

"We wait a few days," Everra responded, "But not for too long. We need him to recuperate long enough for him too travel and short enough so his absence his not that suspicious," she responded.

"What if he does not agree to help us?" Robb asked.

"He will," she responded and her green eyes flickered to meet his, "You underestimate the hatred one can feel towards another."

* * *

Robb was in his tent when it happened.

Him, Lady Everra and the rest of his members of his war council were in there too. They were discussing their next move. Robb had informed them of the presence of Tyrion Lannister in the camp. They had responded with animosity and some had protested, claiming that it would be too risky of a plan.

Robb had responded by saying, "The plan is risky, but so is war."

That had been when the raven came. There had been shouts and yells and they had all seen from their seats, drawing their swords.

That had been when the soldier handed him the small sealed paper that changed everything.

That was when everything had gone quiet. When everything inside him slowed too a stop and he swayed on his feet as his strength was wiped out of him.

Someone had asked him something, he did not hear what, as the sound of his heart pumping furiously in his chest drowned out all other sounds.

He remembered placing the paper into Greatjon's hands and remembered how his face sunk with disappointment as he read aloud the horrible truth.

His father was dead.

Gone.

Deceased.

Fuck.

What was he _doing?_

He remembered walking calmly towards the forest, the beating in his ears growing louder and louder with every step he took and when he was finally a distance away from everyone he swung his sword with all his might against a tree, his blood running with fury and grief.

He remembered tears streaming down his face and he struck one blow after another, picturing each Lannister's face every time his sword hit the tree. Dead. Gone. Deceased. Fuck.

Fury turned into rage and rage turned into sadness and sadness to grief because fuck his father was dead and he was fighting a war he did not know how to end.

Then the fury was only a quiet beat in his heart and a promise passed from his lips as his mother took him into her arms, 'I'll kill them all.'

Every last one of them.

 **A/N HELLOOO PEOPLE! Sorry this update was kinda late, school has been taking up a lot of my time recently. So I hoped you all liked this chapter, I knew it was challenging to write. Thanks for the response to last chapter guys! This story has over 100 follows! I still have a lot of planning to do for this story, I know how it will end…. or at least a rough idea of how it will end. Don't worry though, we still have a good 10 plus chapters until the end. Thanks again for everything guys, remember to follow/favourite/ review. Reviews are my motivation. Also, if any of you are fans of the tv show the 100, that is where I got a lot of my inspiration for Everra. If you're not a fan of the 100, you should check it out, because that show is awesome. Bye! Until next time!**


	18. Chapter 17: She would break him

**Disclaimer! I own nothing**

 **Warning! This story is not edited, try to ignore all grammatical errors. Thank you.**

Chapter 17

Jaime awakened to the sound of the door opening to his cell, as per usual. He had been dreaming, of Cersei, of his father, his brother, but instead he was here, captive to a foreign whore and a boy who his behind his mother's skirts.

He wondered what his father was saying, probably something about the family legacy. He opened his eyes gradually and to his well-concealed surprise it was not a soldier standing in front of him, but the foreign whore.

"Lady Everra," he drawled, "lovely too see you again. Couldn't stay away could you?"

She didn't answer. She just stood there staring at him, her green eyes cool and calculated.

"Well I know I don't look my best but I still seem to have rendered you speechless," he carried on, his voice arrogant.

"I guess that would upset your father, considering he did want to marry me. I think the thought of his wife and eldest son having an affair would sicken him greatly would you not say? Almost as much as the thought of his two eldest children having an affair and having children together."

She took a few steps towards him and leaned down, her face nearly in line with his, "Unspeakable wouldn't you say?"

Jaime did not answer. For once in his life he had no response. How.. unnerving.

She straightened herself upwards once more and brushed her hands against her skirt, her green eyes observing him.

"Heard of Ned Starks death," he said, changing the subject, " how _very tragic._ Perhaps this Stark shall suffer the same fate, what is the saying? Like father, like son."

She did not reply and Jaime smirked at her silence.

"Ohh, did I upset you my lady. Poor dear me, one would think that you had feelings for poor _dear_ Ned Stark. My father will be most disappointed."

"Spare me your jokes, Ser Jaime. That is not why I am here."

"Then why are you here?" he questioned, cocking his head to the side, "Were you worried about me?"

"You don't know," she said.

"Know what?"

"Well I thought since you are so _enthralled_ by the gossip that takes place in the camp I figured you must have known by now." She sighed softly, her cold green eyes staring into his.

"Know what?" He asked once more.

"We have your brother."

A jolt of alarm spread through his body at her words but he shook his head slightly, attempting to calm himself, "You are lying. Tyron is far too smart to have been captured by _you."_

She lifted an eyebrow at him and mirrored his position, cocking her head to the side and said, "Am I? You'd be surprised how easy it is to bribe the mountain clans. Say you will help them do anything they desire and they will do anything for you. Including taking an imposter to pose as Tyrion Lannister. Your father must have figured out that Tyrion is somewhere else by now, he may hate him but he does know what he looks like."

"Lies," Jaime spat, "You bitch-"

"Oh my dear Ser Jaime, I thought you may need a little bit convincing," she said and then called out, "Guards!"

Jaime caught sight of the guards dragging a small body in between them, ropes in hand. He recognised that face, despite how dirty and tired it looked. But still it could not be…

"Tyrion!" He called out.

It was him. He had not answered but Jaime could see his face now, that was his brother, his little brother and he was in the hands of a foreign whore.

"You bitch," he spat at her.

"Your brother will be near you, but you will only observe as we hang him from the tree. It will be a long excruciating process but he will die sooner or later," she said and Jaime diverted his eyes from hers, keeping his eyes on his little brother, "but at least you will have something to entertain you."

As she turned to walk away from him he yelled foul things at her, his voice growing louder and louder as his desperation got to him.

Cold hearted bitch.

* * *

Everra sighed as she entered her tent, undoing her cloak and tossing it towards her bed, her mind running with thoughts.

"My lady," Daavos said, entering the tent.

"Daavos," she said, turning around to face him.

Once the entrance was firmly closed she sat down in a chair, observing him whilst drinking a glass of water.

"Why aren't you enjoying our victory Daavos? You should enjoy the whoring and drinking around while you can."

Daavos stiffened at her words and replied cooly, " I see no reason to celebrate my lady. I see something is troubling you. The Stark boy I presume?"

Her eyes shifted to meet his as she said, "The boy is too busy grieving his poor dear father to be troubling to anyone. Same with the mother and Jon as well. They function but don't do."

"That makes perfect sense, my lady, truly."

"If I wanted a fool Daavos I would have gotten one years ago," she snapped. Her fingers tightened into fists as she thought, there was a lot for her to do, Robb was of no use to anyone at the current moments, all he had done was agree to start the plan now.

"Has the plan started?" Daavos asked moving closing to her.

"Yes," she said and then stopped.

"My lady?" Daavos asked.

"What if I was wrong Daavos, what if he does not say anything to him?" She asked, her eyes meeting his.

Daavos was rather shocked, not once had she ever doubted herself. Always she was cold and aloof, she still was, but this was closet to vulnerable he had seen her since…. he could not remember.

"If the vision the old woman went you was true, then it will happen."

"I suppose," she admitted and brought a hand up to under her chin, and rested on it.

"Daavos," she said, " do you remember the riddle the old woman once sent us?"

"Yes," he replied, "What of it?"

"I think it is Lord Baelish."

"Littlefinger?" he questioned, the blonde eyebrows on his face rising.

"My lady I hardly think that-"

"Exactly, you hardly think that he would. What was it the riddle said, ' _Sometimes it is the person you least expect that ends up being your end.'"_

'What would his motive be?" Daavos asked.

"Power, money, whores, love. Who knows, a man with no motive is the one someone least expects to do anything."

There was no denying the possibility, but Daavos still had trouble grasping it.

"Why would he kill Jon Arryn?" He asked, voicing his doubts.

Everra frowned slightly and her hands linked together at her lap as her mind began to put everything together.

"Lord Baelish loves Catelyn Stark, does he not?"

"Well, yes it was rumoured-"

"Perhaps he killed Jon Arryn so that he could…" her eyes widened as she came to a sudden realisation.

"How could we not have figured it out sooner!" She exclaimed, standing from her chair.

"It all makes sense now Daavos!"

Daavos frowned at her and said, "My lady, what-"

"Lord Baelish loves Catelyn Stark but he loves power as well. He was a man born from nothing and rose to have a seat on the council. He knew that if Jon Arryn died the King would turn to the only other person he could trust, and who was that Daavos?"

'Ned Stark," he replied, slowly catching on, "But my lady, how did he know that Ned Stark would go to King Landing? We know that he went because of the letter Lysa Arryn sent to her sister but how could he have known that he would go?"

Everra paused slightly and frowned, "Perhaps he knew that she would send that letter. The marriage between Lysa and Jon Arryn was unhappy, perhaps she sought comfort from Lord Baelish, we know that they grew up together, perhaps they were closer than we all thought."

They were both silent for a few moments and just as Daavos was about to speak a man called out from the entrance of the tent, "My lady?"

"You may come in," Everra called out, glancing towards Daavos.

A familiar looking man stepped into her tent and said with a cold smile, "Lady Everra."

"Lord Bolton," she acknowledged, her eyes staring back with the same coldness.

 _The Lannister's send their regards._

"Lord Stark is requesting that all members of his council come for a meeting later on this evening," he said, his eyes glancing at Daavos who had stiffened at the sight of the man.

"And he sent you to tell me," she asked.

"I volunteered."

They kept on staring at each other, the tension in the room rising before Everra said, "Very well, Lord Bolton, thank you for your information."

"My pleasure, my lady," he said, smiling at her. It was a cold smile, one she would give to someone.

"Sorry for the interruption."

With that he was gone.

Everra waited a few moments before she said, "He must die."

"My lady?" Daavos asked.

"He has too, before he can do something that may ruin everything, the bastard."

"My lady, you must be careful, killing a Lord- if you get caught-"

"Will mean my certain death, I am not stupid Daavos."

"I need to talk to Robb," she said finally.

"Will he speak with you?" Daavos asked.

"I'll make him speak with me," she replied and stormed out of her tent.

* * *

Robb sat in the grass, enjoying the view in front of him, the way the tree's stood and the wind brushing against his face. He could almost believe that he was at home and that there wasn't nearly forty thousand soldiers behind him.

Grey Wind lay beside him, his tail rising every few minutes, he was enjoying the peace too. It was almost as if he could feel Robb's pain and grief and that he was suffering with him.

Robb had spoken to his mother only twice more since the scene in the forest, he had not even spoken to Jon. Jon his brother, whom lost their father too.

Fuck, he had no idea what to do now.

"You know you are really are an idiot for coming here without any guards," a familiar voice said behind him.

Robb sighed softly, his peace ending and turned to face her, saying, "You just called a Lord an idiot."

'You say that as though it should mean something to me," Lady Everra replied, taking a few steps towards him. Grey Wind began to stiffen at the sight of her and began growling before Rbb waved a hand at him to stop.

"Your early," Robb said, "The meeting does not begin until later on in the evening with the rest of the lords."

"That is not why I'm here," she said, standing a few steps away from him.

"As you know, the plan with Tyrion Lannister has begun, we need to assign soldiers."

Robb nodded, though he showed no sign of truly listening to her.

"Alright, I am trusting you to know what to do," she said and then made a motion to leave.

"I want them dead," Robb said, "all of them."

She stopped moving and instead took a few steps towards him and sat down, Grey Wind immediately raising his head at the new presence.

"Careful, Stark, hate and vengeance are dangerous emotions. They can consume you until there is nothing left of you."

Robb looked at her carefully, trying to understand her.

"I want all of their heads on a spike, including the Lannister's we have now. Especially the Kingslayer's, let his father know how it feels to lose someone you love."

"Do that and Sansa will be killed. Raped and tortured beforehand, you have more to lose than to gain by killing Jaime Lannister."

"And Tyrion?"

"Tyrion is… useful. If he was not an imp I believe he would be considered one of the greatest minds of Westeros. If you win this war, having him as an ally will be of a great advantage to you," she said, turning to glance at him.

"I still want them dead," he said childishly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs.

She did not answer for a few moments, looking as though she was trying to search for the right answer.

"I know how you feel, I lost both of my parents when I was very young," she finally replied.

"I'm sorry," Robb said. He meant it too.

"Don't be. I'm not."

She was back, that cold, indifferent person whom Robb knew her too be. Any signs of vulnerability were gone the moment the words left her mouth. Robb felt something twinge inside of him, like a warning.

She stood up then, brushing her hands against the skirt of her dress and said, "I will see you later at the meeting, my lord."

Robb nodded and said, "Until then, my lady."

She nodded in acknowledgement and then turned to walk away.

 _I don't understand her,_ Robb thought, _cold one minute and telling me of her dead parents the next. . . damn her._

It was a rather good thing he could not see the smirk on her face.

* * *

"The both of you looked rather cosy," Daavos said when Everra entered her tent.

She rolled her eyes at his observation and said, "You did not have too watch."

Daavos sighed in frustration and took a few steps towards her and exclaimed loudly, "My lady what are you doing?"

She raised an eyebrow at him questingly and said, "What did it seem like I was doing?"

Daavos rolled his eye at her answer and continued to look at her expectantly.

"I was… opening up to him. Telling him about my ' _dark past'_ ," she said tucking a lock behind her hair.

Daavos continued to frown at her disapprovingly.

"Alright Daavos, what does the Stark boy seem like to you? Hmm? Does he seem greedy, lustful, naive or honourable?"

"He seems like a boy whom does not know what he is actually doing," Daavos said hesitantly.

"That is partially true, while we know he is a skilled strategist and warrior he has no clue as to what he is doing when it comes to politics."

"What does that have to do with you cuddling up to him?" Daavos demanded. He did not care that he seemed like a child. He was jealous, but he would die before he admitted it out loud, despite how obvious it was.

"Do you think he is more likely to listen to someone he trusts or to a woman younger than him whom he barely knows?" She questioned.

"In order for the Stark boy to listen to my council he must trust me. We both know that it will take time for him to lose his nativity and that is time which we do not have Daavos. If he starts to trust me sooner everything will go ahead faster, its simple logic."

"Simple logic," Daavos muttered.

"If he thinks he knows me he is more likely to listen to me. That will make him easier for me to control. After the war is over, he can bury his face in the snow for all I care, until then, we need his cooperation."

"And what if he falls in love with you, hmm? What then? We both know that he is a romantic fool and is prone to falling in love with people he shouldn't," Daavos asked.

That seemed to stop her short, almost as if she had never even considered it before.

"All the better," she said coldly, " that means that I have control over whom he marries so I can make sure he does not break his oath to the Freys. The gods know we can not afford for him to have any more enemies than he already has. The Freys may be drunks but they are dangerous, they defeated a King and his army once, they can do it again."

They did not speak for a few moments until Daavos said, "My lady I hope you do not take offence when I say that you have a remarkable talent for not caring about anyone."

She let out something akin to a laugh and said, "I try Daavos, I try."

Her head then turned and that was when she noticed something.

"Suns gone down Daavos, we have a meeting to attend too."

* * *

Robb sat in the centre of all his banner men and Lady Everra, waiting patiently for the man in front of him to finish speaking. They had gone to discussing their victory and talking about their losses when a Lord had raised the question; Whom would they side with? Renly or Stannis?

"The choice is clear," the man was saying, "Let us move South to join King Renly and join our forces with his."

"Renly is not the King," Robb found himself saying out loud.

The lord turned to face him, his face surprised as he said, "You can not mean to hold to Joffrey my lord? He put your father to death."

He could feel his mother's gaze on the side of his face, as well as Theon's whom was sitting behind the Lord in from of him.

"That does not make Renly King," he replied, " He is Robert's youngest brother, if Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before me, Renly can not be king before Stannis."

His eyes darted around the room as he watched majority of the Lords nodding in agreement, except Lady Everra whom was simply staring at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Do you mean to declare us with Stannis?" The Lord questioned.

"Renly isn't right!" Someone yelled from the back, causing the air to erupt with chatter.

Lord Greatjon leaped upwards and commanded, "My Lords, my Lords!"

The room quieted almost immediately. The other Lord sat down quickly as Lord Greatjon began to speak, "Here is what I say to these two kings."

He then spat at the floor violently, causing some of the men to cheer loudly and others to laugh.

"Renly Baratheon is nothing to me! Nor Stannis neither! Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the south? What do they know of the wall? Of the Wolfswood? And their gods are wrong!"

Many began to laugh now but Robb kept his mouth closed, he was not to sure he liked where this was going.

"Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again?" Greatjon demanded loudly, "It was the dragons we bowed to!

Now the dragons are dead."

He drew out his sword as he turned to face away from Robb, but pointed his sword towards him and exclaimed, "There, sits the only King I'll bend my knee too. The King in the North!"

He then bent down, his words echoing throughout.

Robb was frozen, he seemed unable to comprehend what this meant. He felt half tempted to yell at Lord Greatjon to get up, to say that he had to much to drink, but the other part of him, the larger part, was too surprised to do anything.

Robb found himself standing up, about to say something when someone else called out, "Ill have peace on those terms. They can keep their red castle and their iron chair too." He then drew out his sword and kneeled down exclaiming, "The King in the North!"

Theon then stood, making his way to Robb and said, "Am I your brother? Now and always."

"Now and always," Robb replied, his voice surprisingly firm.

"My sword is yours, through victory and defeat. From this day, till my last day."

"The King in the North!" Greatjon yelled.

Everyone else immediately reciprocated, drawing out their swords and yelling, "The King in the North! The King in the North!"

His eyes went to the back of the room, where Lady Everra, Lord Edwin and Ser Daavos still sat, her eyes on him.

She then stood up and made her way towards him, the room slowly quieting at the sight.

"I'm no northman," she said, "But I would be blind not to see that you're better than the Lannister's and the Baratheons."

Robb's lips curled up slightly at her words and then she said, "Will our houses have an alliance throughout this war and after?"

Robb replied without hesitation, "Yes, my lady."

She nodded at him and the unsheathed her sword, exclaiming, "Then you have my utmost support, your grace."

She then kneeled in front of him, causing the two men behind her to do the same. They all then shouted, northmen and southerners alike, "The King in the North!"

* * *

Jaime heard the distant sounds of shouting from the other side of the camp, but could not be bothered trying to decipher what they were shouting. His brother was still hanging from that god forsaken tree, clinging to life. Tyrion had been forced to stand on the tip of his toes on a chair, which allowed him to breathe, but Jaime knew he could not hold out for much longer.

His arms hurt from trying to free himself of his ropes and his voice was coarse from having been yelling for hours on end. He was distracted by the sound of his cell opening and snapped his head forward, his eyes narrowing into a glare as he took in the sight of an unfamiliar man in front of him.

"Who are you?" He snarled.

The boy winced at his harsh tone and simply stepped forward, a tray in hand. Something on the tray caught Jaime's attention, it was sharp and silver and his eyes almost widened at the realisation of what it was.

 _A knife!_ He realised. He felt very tempted to smirk. _Idiots,_ he thought.

He sat there silently as the boy left the tray in front of him and quickly hurried out of the tent, shaking with fear. Jaime waited a few moments before lifting his feet in the air and trying to balance the knife between his feet and bring them towards his chained hands under the ropes.

 _Come on, come on,_ he thought. His brother did not have much time.

When he finally managed to get the knife into his hands, his face had broken out into a sweat, and his face was red from concentrating.

He managed to twist the knife upward and began to painfully shift it up and down, careful not to cut into his side in the process. When the ropes finally fell around him, he leaped to his feet and hurried towards the door, knife in hand.

All he could see was his brother hanging the tree, slowly losing air that he did not comprehend the fact that the door was not properly locked. Once he had shoved the door open, he did not realise how suspicious it was. Perhaps, when looking back on it he had, things would have ended differently.

"Tyrion," He rasped out, stumbling towards his brother, knife in hand.

Tyrion's eyes widened as he realised that it was Jaime whom was stumbling towards him, covered in a thick layer of dirt and shit.

Jaime held onto to the rope as he began to sluggishly cut it, his hands slipping. He felt dizzy and nauseous as the word began toolbar around him but he forced himself to focus. He had to get out of there. Tyrion could not die, not without knowing….

The rope grew thinner and thinner until finally it snapped and Tyrion collapsed with a loud _thud_ onto the floor. He began to cough loudly before Jaime bent down and covered his mouth, his head snapping around to see if anyone had heard them.

"Shh, Tyrion," he whispered, lifting his hand.

Tyrion looked up at him and let out a weak laugh and managed to rasp out, "Thank you brother, for saving me."

Jaime chuckled slightly before muttering, "It was a… debt I owed you." Jaime's voice sounded strange.

Tyrion cocked his head,"A debt? I do not understand."

Jaime stood as he said, "Good. Some doors are best left closed."

Tyrion managed to slowly sit up, the pain in his throat escaping him for a few moments.

"Oh dear," Tyrion rasped out, "Is there something grim and ugly behind it? Could it be that someone said something _cruel_ to me once. I'll try not to weep. Tell me."

Jaime looked around hurriedly, trying not to look at Tyrion.

"Tyrion…"

Tyrion's heart leapt in his chest as he realised, _Jaime is afraid._ "Tell me," Tyrion said again.

Jaime glanced at Tyrion's face and spoke softly, "Tysha."

"Tysha?" Tyrion asked, his stomach tightening, "What of her?"

"She was no whore. I never bought her for you. That was a lie that Father commanded me to tell. Tysha was. . . she was what she seemed to be. A crofter's daughter, chance met on the road."

Tyrion could not breather for a few moments and it was not because of the injuries on his neck.

"She was right," Tyrion whispered, "By the gods she was right."

Jaime frowned slightly at his words and said, "Tyrion—"

He hit him. It was a slap, backhanded, but he put all his leftover strength into it, all his pain, all his fear, all his anger. It was all Tyrion could do not to scream.

Jaime fell backward, his head still faced to the side as he said, 'I guess I earned that."

"Maybe,' a voice behind them said, "but I must thank you for making this so easy, Ser Jaime," Lady Everra called out.

Jaime leapt upwards but it was too late, guards had surrounded them on every corner.

"Put him away," she commanded and the guards came forward and surrounded Jaime and managed to tie his hands behind hi back, despite him fighting back.

'Tyrion," he was calling out, "Tyrion!"

Tyrion didn't answer, instead he looked at the woman in front of him, remembering what she said to him earlier on in the day.

 _Tyrion's eyes opened to the sight of a woman standing over him, her face titled to the side and brow furrowed in thought._

" _I know I am charming, my lady, but watching over me in my sleep is too much too fast," he croaked out, his voice breaking._

 _She shook her head at him slightly and said, "I would not necessarily call it charm."_

" _Charm, wit, intelligence, whom knows? You obviously seem to lack it."_

" _Fair enough," she replied. She then started to step around him, her eyes staying on him all the while before she bent down in front of him._

" _Your intelligence is actually quite impressive Lord Tyrion," she said._

 _Tyrion snorted loudly and remarked, "Yes I can see it left quite the impression on you.'_

" _I wonder does your family appreciate it?" She continued as if he had never spoken, "We both know your father does not. Nor does your sister, but your brother, your close with him, are you not?"_

 _Tyron did not answer, he simply stared ahead, trying to ignore her._

" _I wonder, has he ever lied to you?" she said, standing back up._

" _What does my relationship with my brother have to do with anything?" Tyrion asked, a bitter smile on his face._

 _She shrugged nonchalantly and said, "I'm merely curious. It would seem. . . natural for a brother to lie to another. To keep something from another-"_

" _If you want to say something say it," Tyrion snapped, "This may be my last hours on this earth, I do not want to spend it listening to your riddles."_

" _You won't die," she said and then added, "At least not today."_

" _Comforting," he said sarcastically._

" _Your brother is keeping something from you though," she said and took a few steps back._

 _Tyrion frowned at her and then laughed loudly, "Then tell me what this secret is, I promise I will not weep."_

" _It is better you here it from him then from me," she said and then walked away, leaving him to reflect on what just happened._

" _Conniving bitch," he muttered._

"Healers," she called out, snapping Tyrion back to the present moment, "make sure that Lord Tyrion is cared for."

Just as she turned around, Tyrion's lips had just formed her name when suddenly a feeling overcame him and he fell backwards, his eyes closing as his mind wandered off into darkness.

It would seem that almost being killed and your brother admitting to being the reason your first wife was raped took a toll on you.

* * *

Everra walked towards Robb's side, whom was standing off in the distance, observing the scene.

When she reached his side he asked, "What did he say to him?"

"Does it matter?" she said, "We got what him on our side."

After a few moments she added, 'Your grace."

 _The King in the North,_ Robb thought.

The sudden fear that gripped his stomach made him almost fall over but he managed to conceal it with difficulty.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder and he almost sprung back in surprise, not expecting it.

His eyes flew up to meet hers. They were still cold and aloof but they were surprisingly comforting.

She looked almost. . . sympathetic as she looked at him but sh did not say anything, perhaps that was what was comforting.

They stood there for a good while, her hand still on his shoulder, until eventually she lowered it and said, "Have a good evening, your grace."

"Likewise my lady," he said and took a step away from her, suddenly puzzled as to why he let her do that.

 _You fool,_ he swore at himself, _you naive fool. You are a king, not a boy. Engaged. She'll break you._

"Goodnight," he muttered and stalked off, eager to be alone.

He was right though, at the end of the day.

She would break him.

 **And thats a wrap guys! This chapter was hard to write. I literally rewrote the whole thing like fifty thousand times. I hoped you guys liked it though! Tell me what you think, do you guys hate Everra? Do you think Robb will figure out what she is doing? Poor guy, right? He can't really trust anyone at the end of the day can he? I hoped you like the development with Tyrion and Jaime, at first I was rather wary to use that storyline before i decided to go ahead with it. The scene were jaime tells Tyrion the truth is practically taken straight out of the book, so if you guys recognise the scene thats why. To me, the scene was so powerful, I could not help but include it n this story. Remember, one of these character's belong to me. Nor does the writing in that scene. Next chapter should be up at some point, I still have a lot of thins to figure out for this story. Or at least, some of the main events. Though I usually just end up changing things when I am writing the chapter. Oh before I forget, when this story ends, I want to go over and edit it, not rewrite it or anything but look over grammatical errors and stuff. If any of you are interested by the time this story ends, please PM me. Thanks for the response last chapter guys, it really means a lot. We have almost 120 followers! That makes me so happy! Thanks again and remember to review, that encourages me like nothing else. Remember, if you have any questions just PM me. Bye guys!**


	19. Chapter 18: Now and Always

**Disclaimer I do not own anything! Everything belongs to George R.R. Martin or the creators of the show. I only own the original characters.**

 **Also this story is not edited, please try to ignore all grammatical errors.**

Chapter 18

Tyrion took a large gulp from his cup and enjoyed the sweet taste of the wine against the back of his throat. He tried to ignore the two sets of eyes staring intently at him, one pair cold and the other was filled with poorly concealed nervousness and doubt.

"What is it you want from me?" He inquired, taking another gulp.

The female eyes on him narrowed and she said, "We want you as an ally."

The male's eyes flickered to her quickly before he turned his strong blue eyes towards her, his eye's growing more stern with each passing moment.

"We want you to. . ." The newly crowned King was picking his words carefully, "work for us."

"Spy for you, you mean," Tyrion corrected, cocking his glass in their direction.

"Yes," Robb agreed, his voice neutral.

Everra stood from her chair and walked towards Tyrion and spoke firmly, "After much deliberation, the King in the North and I decided that we wanted you as an ally. Someone to tell as what was happening in Kings Landing. Whom better than someone one would least expect."

"And you were so certain of my willingness?" Tyrion questioned, "of my abandoning my loyalty to my family?"

"We both know that the extent of your loyalty was to your brother and we both know that he has not returned the same courtesy," Tyrion visibly stiffened and tightened his hand around his cup, his jaw clenching.

Tyrion nodded at her words and took a few moments to consider.

Betray his father? His sister? His nephews and nieces? His brother? For what?

People he neither liked nor cared for. But then again, he did not care much for the majority of his family. They despised him and soon enough he learned to return the favour. Whom did he have now? His brother was the only true tie to his family. . .

His stomach tightened at the thought of his brother, the anger erupting in his stomach once more.

"Lord Tyrion?" Robb questioned, "Lord Tyrion?"

Tyrion snapped his forward and muttered, " Give me a few moments your grace."

He spoke the words without care and the King stiffened at the blatant carelessness, he was still new to being a King. After all, it had only been a few days. The injuries Tyrion had were more serious than Everra had thought.

"I'll do it," Tyrion announced, his voice final.

Robb nodded triumphantly until Tyrion spoke once more, "With one condition."

Everra paused for a moment before glancing back at Robb, their eyes meeting for a brief moment.

'My nephew Tommen and my niece Myrcella will be spared when the war is over," Tyrion said, staring straight at Robb.

Robb's eyes narrowed slightly before he said, "And?"

Tyrion hesitated before saying, "My brother will be spared as well."

"Absolutely not," Robb declared. He then stood up and said loudly, "He crippled my little brother because he saw _your_ brother with _your_ sister."

Everra walked back to Robb quickly and whispered something to him, which Tyrion could see stopped Robb in his tracks. He was frowning at her, his mouth slightly agape before turning to look at Tyrion and spoke reluctantly, "Very well, your brother will live as long as you honour your end of the alliance. If you fail to do, your brother, your nephew and niece and yourself will all have your heads on a spike."

Tyrion raised his eyebrows at the threat, wondering where the boy he had met at Winterfell so long ago went. _He grew up,_ he thought wistfully before waving his hand at him, "Yes, yes, I know what will happen if I do not fulfil by end of the alliance. When do I leave?"

They looked at each other and then Everra spoke, "Tonight. You will leave alone. You will look as though you have been held captive by the hill tribes for the past few weeks."

When Tyrion raised his eyebrows at her in question she said, "When you were released from The Eyrie I bribed the hill tribes into saying they had you and provided them with a dwarf as proof. By now your father must know that they were lying. You must visit your father before you go to Kings Landing-"

"Why?" Tyrion interjected.

"Your father is still in the Riverlands for the time being, his army is in a slightly precarious position so it is highly likely that they will be leaving soon and fast. The faster you are put into. . . safe hands so to speak the less likely you are of getting killed. With all due respect, Lord Tyrion, but you are not the best swordsman."

"None taken," Tyrion replied flippantly.

He then stood from his chair and bowed mockingly saying, "I am at your service your grace."

No one laughed.

* * *

"You are doing what?" Catelyn said loudly, her face outraged.

"Letting Tyrion Lannister go is a mistake!" She cried.

Robb winced at her loud words, though he knew that her reaction would be like this. He didn't tell her about his promise about letting Jaime Lannister live, he did not like Lady Everra's suggestion, but he knew that it was the only way Tyrion would work for them. Let the Kingslayer live, but making sure that he was miserable for the rest of his days.

"We have more use for him at Kings Landing-"

"We have more use from his here! Use him as a bargaining chip! A hostage just like his brother. If we have two Lannister's as hostages we are more likely to get Sansa back! That is why we started this war in case you have forgotten to get our family back-"

"Its not that simple," Robb cried out, "I wasn't a King when I started the war. We went to war to get Sansa, Arya and father back. We have Arya and father is. . ." He drifted off at the sight of the sudden flash of grief and pain in his mother's eyes.

"I can't stop this war until all the Lannister's are dead. Then we can get Sansa back and we can go home. If I back down before then and go home my men will never rise again. I can not let that happen. "

Robb stood from where he was sitting and walked up to his mother and hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead.

"We will all be together again soon I promise," he said, his voice muffled against his mother's forehead.

"You've done so well," she said, her blue eyes staring into his own, "Your father would be proud."

She struggled to get the words out, overcome with emotion.

Robb smiled at her softly before making his way out of the tent, his heart heavy in his chest.

* * *

Everra and Tyrion walked towards the horse quietly, a bag hanging from Everra's hands.

When they reached the horse they turned to look at each other and Tyrion said, "There has been something that has been bothering me for quite some time. Something that I can not figure out."

Everra merely raised an eyebrow in question and Tyrion took it as a sign to continue, "How did you know about Tysha? The truth about what really happened."

"I didn't," she lied, "I merely assumed. Every brother has lied to another brother or has a secret that they would not tell. I assumed that Jaime was the same and fortunately enough I was right. "

"You assumed that Jaime was hiding something from me?" Tyrion asked.

Everra shrugged casually and said, "Believe what you wish Lord Tyrion."

They were silent for a few moments before Everra handed over the bag, saying, 'There is enough food in there for a few days ride, keep off the main road's and remember before you get to your fathers camp you leave the horse, make a few scratches and do not drink water for at least a day."

"Your concern for my wellbeing is truly astounding," Tyrion said, snatching the bag from her hands.

He then moved towards the horse and looked up at it helplessly and after a few moments he turned to look at her and said sheepishly, "I can't. . I can't get on."

Everra raised an eyebrow at him and then clapped her hands and almost immediately something behind him moved from the tree's. Tyrion could barely make out a long black figure creeping out and was startled at the sight of green eyes staring back at him.

"Andromache," Everra called out softly. The animal moved slowly at her command and came beside her mistress, staring at Tyrion.

Tyrion had taken a few steps back at the sight of her and muttered, "What does your. . . pet have to do with anything."

Everra looked motioned for the animal to go forward and she did, stopping right next to the horse.

"Well get on," Everra said.

At Tyrion's wide eyed expression she rolled her eyes and said, 'On the horse,not the panther."

Tyrion hesitantly grasped onto the horse's sale before stepping not Andromache's back and stiffened at the animals growl before pushing himself upwards and managed to put his legs on either side of the saddle.

"While we may not allow men to accompany you to your father's camp, you need some kind of protection. Andromache will be that for you," Everra said.

"Will it not look the tiniest bit odd if I go around with a panther riding beside me. After all, everyone knows that you have one, my father is not that stupid."

"She will be hidden, watching you from afar as she does with me most of the time. The moment you are within safety she will return."

"Your so sure of her allegiance to you?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

"Go, Tyrion and try not to get yourself killed."

He nodded at her and kicked the sides of the horse, grabbing onto the reigns and galloped away into the dead of the night.

Everra looked down at Andromache and said, 'Same goes for you too, you know."

Almost as if understanding her, Andromache nodded and leaped forward into the forest until Everra could no longer see her.

* * *

Jon sat by the fire quietly, taking a sip from his drink. The soldiers around him were talking amongst themselves nearby but he sat a small distance away from them, not in the mood for company. It had been a few days since his father's death yet it felt as though he just found out yesterday.

The grief he felt was still strong and raw and tugged at his heart like a stone had been thrust in its place, the weight dragging him down. Though there was anger too, anger so strong he felt as though it would consume him until the end of his days. Now however, there was only emptiness. A hollow feeling in his chest that numbed everything else in his body until he felt nothing at all.

The flames may have warmed him outwardly but he feared that nothing could take away the sudden emptiness in his heart.

Jon was too consumed in his own thoughts that he did not notice the girl whom sat a few feet away from hi, watching him closely.

When he eventually did notice it was because she was speaking his name softly, "Jon," Anna called out, "Jon."

He faced her, startled and said, "Apologies, my lady I did not see you."

"No need to call me my lady Jon, I am not one and besides I thought we were closer than that," she said with a soft smile. It slowly faded away when he did not respond, his eyes instead going to the flames.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "about your father. He was a good man."

"Yes he was," Jon said, still not looking at her.

"He would not want you to be like this," she said, "Distancing yourself from everyone and closing yourself up, he would-"

"With all due respect Anna I know your trying to help but I honestly could not care less about what you have to say," he snapped and then paused at the hurt look on her face and quickly apologised, "I'm sorry, that was harsh, I'm just. . . it's just hard and my brother seem's to be so calm and at ease with it, like it doesn't even bother him. I have not even talked to him since I found out."

Anna moved closer slightly and looked at him, saying, "Your brother and step mother grieve for your father the same as you, they simply do not have the luxury to show their grief. Your brother is not a King, he can not afford to seem weak. "

Jon nodded at her words and said, "It's still. . . hard." He was surprised when she said the word with him, her brown eyes looking at him with understanding.

"My mother died when I was young, she was the handmaiden of Lady Everra's mother. When she died, Lord Legrath gathered all of the servants that served them and tortured them and then executed them in front of their families. For no good reason. My mother was the best person I knew and when she died my father still continued on as if everything was normal, he went to work everyday, made the same food. He did not seem the least bit affected by her death and I was so angry with him. So frustrated with him and one day a few years ago I finally snapped. I yelled and screamed and asked him how he had managed to continue on working or a man that tortured and murdered his wife. That was when he turned to me, tears in his eyes and said that he had done it for me. To make sure that I wasn't killed as well." At Jon's appalled expression she said, "Make no mistake, Lord Everth Legrath was not above killing and raping children. My father knew that and he did not want it to happen to me, if he had shown he slightest bit of anger or hatred towards him I would have been killed as punishment. So believe me when I say I understand how you feel and I urge you not to hate your brother for what seems like him not grieving because I am sure that he is."

"I'm sorry that that happened to you," Jon said.

They were both silent for a few moments before Jon asked, "And you continued to serve the Legrath family, after everything they did to yours. Your the handmaiden of his daughter."

"I. . . it was hard," she admitted, "but it took me several years to realise that if I thought that what he had done to my family was cruel I wondered what he did to his own. His wife, his child. . . He had always wanted a son but rumour had it that he was cursed. That a priestess had said that he would only be allowed to have one child in his lifetime. He had tried, if I remember the stories correctly, with numerous noblewomen. Lords had brought their daughters and each time they all left without a child in their womb. It was only during the rebellion of King Robert that Everra's mother, a healer during the war became pregnant with his child."

"A healer?" Jon asked, " She was not a woman of noble birth?"

"She was, I believe, from a noble family in Essos. I do not remember where. . . I believe it was Volantis though it may have been Pentos. She was a kind woman, beautiful too. Possibly as beautiful as her daughter, if not more."

"Poor woman," Jon said, "For getting cursed to have to live with a man like that for the rest of her life."

He did not want to ask but curiosity got the best of him, "What happened to her?"

Anna swallow and looked around nervously before Jon said, 'I'm sorry I should not be asking-"

"No, no it is quite alright," Anna said.

"Talia Legrath was a kind woman. My mother always spoke high of her and she loved her daughter but I think that the cruelty she faced from her husband was too much for her and shortly after Lady Everra turned four, she through herself from the top of RedRun and plummeted to her death. People said that her head had crashed so hard on the floor that she was disfigured beyond the point of recognition and that it took several hours for people to realise that it was her. Other's say that Lady Everra herself was the one to find her and that she clung to her mother's body for hours and hours. Waiting for her to wake up."

"She obviously changed," Jon said.

"Yes," Anna agreed.

They continued on talking for several more hours, unaware of the green eyes watching them.

* * *

Robb stood as he watched the rest of his Lords walking away from him, their meeting just having finished. Lady Everra could not make it, as she was taking care of Tyrion Lannister and Robb noticed that the Lord's seemed relived at her absence.

He was distracted by his thoughts when someone spoke, "A word, your grace," Theon asked.

"You don't have to call me your grace when no ones around," He said.

"Its not so bad, once you get used to it," Theon replied.

"I'm glad someone's gotten used to it," Robb muttered bitterly.

"The Lannister's will not agree to whatever terms you send them," Theon said.

"I know that,"Robb replied, looking at him.

"You can fight them in the field as long as you like, "Tyrion exclaimed, "but you do not win this war until you take Kings landing and to do that, you'll need ships."

"My father has ships and men who know how to sail ships," Theon said eagerly.

"Men who fought against my father," Robb said.

"Men who fought against King Robert to free themselves from the south," Theon amended, "That is what we are doing now. I'm his only living son, he'll listen to me, I know he will. i'm not a Stark, I _know_ that, but your father raised me to be an honourable man. Let's avenge him together."

Robb looked at him warily, he had no doubt of Theon's loyalty but of Balon Greyjoy's. He had not seen his son in years, what if he did not listen to Theon?

"Alright," Robb said.

Theon nodded and said as he walked out, "Remember your my brother in everything but name. Now and always."

* * *

"You summoned me, Your grace," Everra said, walking into the tent.

She was greeted to the sight of Robb sitting on a chair beside a table, looking down at numerous papers.

"Lady Everra," he said, standing up.

"Yes I did ask you here for a reason, please sit down."

Everra eyed him warily for a moment before taking a seat across from him.

"If I may ask, your grace, why am I here-"

"I agreed for Theon to seek an alliance with Balon Greyjoy."

Silence. He had spoken with a sudden nervousness, like he was a blushing boy and not a King.

"You did what?" She asked.

"Balon Greyjoy has two hundred ships, if we are to defeat the Lannister's we are going to do that at Kings Landing and to do that, we need ships. If Balon Greyjoy is going to listen to anyone, it is Theon, if we are to have any chance of an alliance-"

"Not with Balon Greyjoy. I don't say this because I hold a secret grudge against him before you accuse me of anything I say this because he is not trustworthy. he rose against your father and rebelled against a King. He is power hungry and-"

"I'm rebelling against a King now!" Robb said, "Theon will convince him-"

"Theon has not seen his father for years," Everra said, "He does not know him. He will be eager to please him and Balon will take advantage of that, he will manipulate him and Theon will let himself be manipulated. He grew up in Winterfell-"

"Precisely, he grew up in Wintefell, with me, and my brothers and sisters and my mother and father, we treated him like family. My father treat him like a son-"

"But he was not family, not really. He was a prisoner, a boy taken away by strangers and foreigners by strange men and was treated with kindness. He was not really one of you, despite what you may say. He knows that, deep down. So do you."

Robb looked down at his hands, trying to ignore the sudden bumpiness in his throat.

She was right, he knew that. He guessed he always knew, deep down. That did not mean that it was not hard to accept or admit. Theon was still like a brother to him regardless. . . Why should he trust her?

"Why should I trust you?" he said, looking into her eyes, "You killed one of your own Lords on your first night back in Westeros afetr a ten year absence, there are those whom would say that I should kill you."

"But you won't," she said, "Because you know I can help you.'

She then leaned forward and did something that surprised them both.

She placed her hands on top of his. They were cold and smooth against his warm and rough ones.

His eyes flew up to meet hers, startled.

"Tell him you changed your mind," she said softly.

Robb nodded hesitantly, dreading what was to come.

She then gently pulled her hands away from his, forcing and stood up, muttering, "Excuse me, your grace, I feel unwell of a sudden."

Robb nodded and watched as she walked out, unable to say anything.

"Guards!" He called out.

They immediately walked in and said, "Please bring Theon Greyjoy to me."

He still did not like admitting it.

* * *

Anna hesitantly snuck into the tent, her heart pounding. She had just said her farewell to Jon, they had been talking for hours on end until the camp had gone quiet and they realised that everyone had gone to sleep except for a few guards.

The warmth of the tent wrapped around her and she rubbed her hands together, eager for warmth.

"You did well," a voice said from behind her.

Anna whirled around, her heart in her throat at the sound of the voice.

"You scared me," she whispered, pressing her hand to her chest.

"How is he doing?" The person asked from the shadows.

"Better," Anna replied, "He trusts me now."

"Good," the person nodded, "Very good."

"And Everra? Does she suspect you of anything?" The voice asked.

"No," Anna said, "I do not think so."

"Good, very good."

Anna swallowed loudly and said, her voice small, "I'm not too sure I want to do this anymore-"

"I don't care-" The voice erupted, "You say anything and I will kill you too!"

Anna didn't say anything and instead just stood and watched fearfully, hating herself to her very core.

* * *

Theon stormed his way across the camp, ignoring all the startled glances he got.

His anger was running through his veins, he couldn't think clearly. All he could think about was the embarrassed look on Robb's face.

 _You're not a Stark. You're not trustworthy._

He had not said it aloud, but Theon could tell that was what he was thinking.

 _Foreign whore_.

He then stopped in the middle of his tracks as he stared at the tent in front of him.

 _What was he doing? He could not do this now. Not in front of everyone._

He would wait. Patiently.

After he had stumbled back to his tent and lay down, he waited until the camp had gone quiet until he made his move.

He slowly stood from his cot, and slowly made his way out of the tent. There were no signs of life across the camp, only the sound of men snoring and fires crackling.

He then tiptoed his way until he reached his destination.

Theon hesitated only a moment when he reached the entrance of the tent, but the anger inside him surged once more and by the gods did it consume him. Every singe of inch of him. But with his anger, there was hurt and confusion and his wounded pride and it was all because of her.

He was careful when he snuck into the tent, he made sure that there was no chance of her being awake. No lights inside the tent.

He could barely make out anything in this darkness, but his eyes adjusted enough to see that there was indeed a small candle next to her bedside. She was sound asleep however, her eyelids shut closed and her raven hair let loose.

She even looked like a cold hearted bitch in her sleep.

 _This is for Robb_ , Theon assured himself, _she is a liar and a manipulator and she'll kill him when she gets the chance._

He took a careful step towards her, making sure he made no sound whatsoever. It was at that precise moment that he realised he had no sword, no knife.

His hands would have to do. It would be less messy anyway.

He then took another step, his heart beating wildly.

He was almost there.

He then stood beside her and watched her, looking down at her cold, yet admittedly beautiful face.

Bitch.

 _She's had this coming to her since she arrived at Winterfell_ , he thought.

He then carefully climbed onto the cot, one leg on either side of her waist, he then reached out and placed a gloved palm onto her mouth.

One of his hands wondered down her body and lingered at her neck and he began to stroke it.

That was when her eyes opened.

For a split second, her eyes connected with his and Theon felt as though he was no longer in his own body, almost as if he was watching this happening from above.

Her hands immediately reached up to the hand at her neck and began to tug at it.

"Whore," Theon spat out at her, his hand reaching out to undo his belt, "Think you're better than everyone else do you? So uptight and cold, I think I'll change that."

Everra bucked her hips upwards, and managed to make Theon loose his balance enough that he placed a hand done to steady himself and when he did, she wrapped her arms around it and twisted it.

Theon cried out it pain and Everra took the opportunity to reach beneath her pillow and take out her knife. Theon had fallen off the bed, and was trying to get up. Everra leapt off the bed and walked menacingly towards Theon, gripping the knife in her hand tightly.

She then reached down and grabbed onto the collar of Theon's shirt, her eyes cold but triumphant.

Theon closed his eyes and braced himself for the blow, but when it did not come, he hesitantly opened his eyes and croaked out, "Why aren't you killing me?"

She regarded him for a few moments before saying, "I'm not going to kill, you now, when you'e here alone with me. First, I'm going to bring Ribb and let him see exactly what his _closest_ _friend from childhood_ really is and then I'm going to bring in Catelyn, whom raised you like a son. They are going to see how pathetic and worthless you really are, and then, Greyjoy will I kill you, but before that happens. . ."

She plunged the knife into his leg, cutting through the bone and her face twisted into a smirk at the agonising scream Theon let out.

"Guards!" She yelled. "Help Me!"

* * *

Robb could not believe it.

He wouldn't. Not Theon. Not his friend.

Not the boy whom he had known since he was only a boy. Not the grinning, blunt Theon whom swore loyalty to him.

 _Now and Always._

But the scene in front of him was indeed real. There was a bruised and blood stained woman and a crippled shell of a man with a knife in his leg.

When they had said that Lady Everra had been attacked, he had hurried his way out of his tent at once and almost began running to her tent, his guards and mother at his heels. It was only when he walked in and saw Theon bleeding on the floor did he. . .

He couldn't take his eyes off him and hone he did it was only to look at Everra, whom was sitting on a chair, a large fur coat incasing her. There were some bruises around her neck but otherwise she looked unharmed. Robb could see the edges of a blood stained nightgown peaking out from under the coat and it made his blood churn.

His mother was also shocked, her blue eyes wide and mouth open, her hand reaching up to cover it.

"What happened?" he found himself saying.

"Your _friend_ attempted to rape and kill and her, in case you have not noticed," Daavos snapped, making a protective step closer to Everra.

"Daavos," Everra said softly, raising a hand. Daavos immediately stopped and looked down at her, his anger still clear on his face.

"It was no ones fault but his," she pointed at Theon, "fault. I stopped him before he could do any damage."

Robb nodded, relief flooding through him. It stopped when he heard a large cough coming from Theon and he looked at him.

"Robb," Theon protested weakly, "I did this to protect you, she would have killed you when she had the chance. She was poisoning you, she is now, can't you see that?"

Robb felt both disgust and bile rise up in his throat.

Someone tried to do this _for him._

His closest friend.

"I'm your friend," Theon insisted, "I'm still your brother. _Now and always."_

Robb looked him in the eyes one last time and uttered, "You're no brother of mine."

He then turned towards Everra and said, "Kill him now, if that is what you wish."

She nodded at him and then muttered, "Thank you."

She then stood unsteadily, and said, "Tomorrow, in front of everyone. Let them see what happens to traitors."

Robb nodded in turn and then said, "I'll send a healer for you, my lady. I am truly sorry, this happened to you."

He then called out, "Guards, take Theon away and wrap a bandage around his wound. He can't bleed out."

They moved forward and reached Theon whom was beginning to fight back, "Robb!" He said pleadingly, "Robb!"

Robb didn't answer. He simply walked out of the tent.

"ROBB!" Theon was shouting.

"Catelyn please-"

"Don't" She warned.

Robb had to get away from there. His steps quick and sure.

Theon was still yelling and he still had not fully accepted what had happened.

 _Now and always._

 **A/N Hello guys! First, I would like to thank all of you whom favourited and followed , it means so much, we ware now over 120 follows! Eeek! That makes me so happy Please remember to review, I like to know what my readers are thinking. Do any of you have suggestions, corrections, ideas? Let me know please. Also, I would like to thank those of you who checked out my other story, The Perks of Being A vampire (post apocalypse). Don't worry people, I won't forget to update this story because I started another one, chances are I won't update it until I finish with this one. Who knows? Anyway, did you guys like this chapter? If you did, tell me why, if you didn't tell me why. Reviews are my motivation! Until next time guys.**


	20. Embarrassing and Also Major Alert!

Hey guys, this is kinda embarrassing, It seems that I am done the revision of this story. It took shorter than I thought it would. The only chapter that was actually changed was chapter 18. There are MAJOR CHANGES in that chapter. Please go read it before I upload the next chapter, whenever that is. Happy holidays guys!


	21. Chapter 19: Advantages and Frustrations

**Remember to read the changes made in chapter 18 before reading this chapter! I don't own anything. This story is not edited, please try to ignore all grammatical errors.**

Chapter 19

 _Smoke rose into the sky, making the once clear sky murky and dark, a shadow in the stars. Screams filled the air, soldiers crying out for their mothers, children crying out for someone, anyone to come and help them._

 _Everra looked around, her sword limp in her hands. Her eyes were wide, filled with something she had not felt in a long time._

 _Tears._

 _A sob escaped her mouth and her hand quickly rose to cover her mouth._

 _What had she done?_

"My lady?" Daavos asked, his voice waking her from her sleep.

Everra raised her head from where it lay on the table, her raven hair tumbling down her shoulders.

"What is it Daavos?" She asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"The King wishes to speak to you about Theon Greyjoy."

"Does he now?" She replied, standing from her chair.

She had not changed her clothes from the night before, her legs were sticky with blood that had soaked through her nightgown. She felt slightly sick, her bones felt fragile as she raised her hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Should I send for your handmaiden?" Daavos asked gently.

"Yes," Everra replied, taking a sip of water from a nearby cup, "You do that."

He then began to turn away, before stopping and walking near her, speaking softly, "My lady are you well?"

She folded her arms across her chest, her green eyes cold and aloof.

"Yes quite alright Daavos, thank you," she replied. "Tell the King I will be there soon."

He frowned at her, and then moved away hesitantly, nodding, "As you wish my lady."

"My lady which dress do you wish to wear?" Anna asked from behind her.

Everra placed her down her comb, turning around to look at the two dresses played down on her cot.

"I could quite a dress that covered your neck, my lady," Anna said, moving forward, "but if you wear a cloak-"

"Why would I want to cover my neck?" Everra said frowning. Her neck was covered with bruises shaped like fingers, the blue and purple a stark contrast against her otherwise pale skin.

Anna faltered in her steps and stuttered out, "I-uh, I thought it may be more. . . comfortable for you, if your uh- your uh-"

"My bruises were covered," Everra finished for her, her green eyes hardening.

"Yes," Anna squeaked out.

"Thats a sign of weakness Anna, that shows that it has affected me, the bruises, the. . . attempt," She struggled to find the right word.

"No," she finished, "No covering them. Help me put it on."

When Everra tugged off her nightdress Anna could not help but hiss at the sight of her neck again. The nightdress had covered the nail marks on her shoulder.

Anna then passed Everra a wet cloth, Everra snatching it out of her hands and wringing it. She then placed the damp cloth by her thighs and began to clean herself, the blood leaving her skin.

When she was finished, she simply dropped the cloth onto the floor and lifted her arms up. Anna then grabbed a dress from the bed and tugged it over her head, Everra's raven looks disappearing under the thick silk.

After Anna was finished, Everra stood there for a few moments, her arms hanging limply at her sides.

"Tha. . ." she drifted off, turning around to face Anna, "Thank you."

Anna did not quite know what to say, it was only a rare occasion where her mistress showed any sign of any emotion, let alone gratitude. She understood what she meant somehow, though. Her mother had done this for Lady Everra's mother years ago. Same bruises. Same conversations. Same positions.

The servant and the lady.

"Your welcome," Anna replied.

* * *

"Lady Everra," Robb said, rising from his chair.

Everra was about to answer when she caught sight of the male sitting next to him and instantly stiffened.

"You asked for me, your grace," she replied.

"Yes, Lord Bolton," Robb said, looking down at the Lord whom was staring at Everra intensely, his blue eyes unwavering. "If you do not mind leaving Lady Everra and I to discuss certain matters."

"Yes of course, your grace," the male replied, standing also and making his way out of the room.

"I'm very sorry about the attempt on your life, my lady. I hope the culprit is brought to justice." He had stopped right in front of her, their eyes meeting each other in a frosty glare.

Everra merely nodded in response, waiting until he was out of the room until she said anything.

Robb made his way towards her, stopping when he was close enough. He hesitated, his blue eyes conflicted and just as he was about to speak her voice broke the silence of the room.

"You don't want me to kill Theon do you?" She said. Her green eyes were like glass as she looked at him, hardened and reflective.

"Yes," Robb replied, his voice weak. He felt _weak,_ desperate to explain himself.

"I-"

"I know," she said, "You can't risk upsetting Balon Greyjoy and starting another war. I thought about it too, it makes sense."

"I want to bring him to justice," Robb said desperately, "I do, but I can't-"

She raised a hand, stopping him with a halt.

"Risk starting another war, I know, your grace," She finished off for him.

"When the war is over, you may have your justice," he said.

"When the war is over, I may not be alive," she replied.

They were silent for a few moments, Robb still felt a desperate need to somehow appease her, to make it up to her somehow. She had almost been raped and murdered because of him, in his _name_ , not that she seemed bothered. She was her usual emotionless self, never letting anything in, never letting anything out.

He admired her strength, the power she held within herself, the immediate respect and aura of authority she had around her. If he wanted to be King, a good king, he needed that.

"Is there any other reason you wished to speak with me?" She asked.

"Yes," Robb admitted, walking back to his chair and saying, "Please have a seat, my lady."

She follows his lead, sitting in a chair across from him.

"Someone needs to sit on the iron throne by the end of this war," Robb started, clasping his hands together, "It is not going to be me. It is most certainly not going to be a Lannister, but we have the two options of Renly and Stannis."

"In this war, to secure your victory, Renly would be the best option. He has the Tyrells supporting his claim to the throne and a hundred thousand soldiers at his beck and call. Stannis relies to much on the red priestess of the Lord of Light."

"Lord of Light?" Robb asked. He had heard of it before from Maester Luwin, but that had been years before.

"A deity worshipped throughout Essos," Everra replied, taking a sip from the drink in front of her, immediately putting the cup down as the wine went down her throat, grimacing.

"Do you not drink wine?" Robb asked.

"No, it meddles with my thinking," she replied shortly, "And my mind must be clear. Especially when we are at war."

Robb's amusement disappeared almost immediately.

"So you think we should ally with Renly?" He asks.

Her eyes lifted up to meet his, "He's the more. . . dependable option."

"Dependable?" Robb asked incredulously.

"Stannis is to rash, too cruel. To much like Tywin Lannister, Renly is a more ambitious version of the late King Robert except unlike him he is not motivated by love."

Silence once more.

Robb looked at her, observing her closely and called her out, "You don't want either one of them to sit on the thrown do you?"

Everra's face snapped up, being careful to mask her surprise.

"I don't believe that either of them are capable of being good kings, yes," she replied carefully.

"Do you believe that _you_ should be the one to sit on the iron throne?" Robb asked curiously.

"No," she replied.

"Why not?" Robb asked, surprised, then quickly asked after, "What do you think a good King should be like?"

She looked at him strangely for a few moments, hesitating before saying, "I believe that a good King should be both feared, loved and respected. If a King is simply feared, by use of force and threats, he holds no true power over his people."

At Robbs curious expression, she continued, "Say, if you took away Joffrey's guards and his high walls, and you let him walk around and be surrounded by his people, they'll kill him. His guards represent the fear that strikes in their hearts, not him. They fear the executioners block, not him. Take that all away and all you have is a hateful coward. A real king should be both feared and respected, feared enough that no one rises up against him but respected enough that if someone does they all rally to his defence."

"And what about a King being loved?" Robb inquired.

"Many associate love with weakness while it is in most cases, if. . . used in the right way, love can be a major advantage to any ruler."

Robb shook his head at her, a small scoff escaping his lips.

"What?" Everra asked, her eyebrows drawing into a frown.

"That must be one of the coldest things I've ever heard come out of anyones mouth," Robb said, his voice laced with shock and just a little bit of pity.

"That must be one of the _truest_ things you've ever heard come out of someones mouth," Everra corrected.

Robb shook his head at her, his disbelief growing.

"Your grace," Everra said, "You brought me here to discuss about Renly or Stannis Baratheon, you wished to tell me something. What was it?"

Robb shook his head, clearing his head of his thoughts. He did not know why he was so bothered by her cold and callus opinion.

"I'm sending my mother to discuss an alliance with Renly, she leaves at First light."

Everra nodded and then stood up, nodding.

"May I leave?" She asked

Robb nodded at her and she walked calmly out of the room.

This would not be the last time they were frustrated by each other.

Her by his fixation with honour and doing things the 'right' way.

Him by her coldness and ruthlessness.

* * *

"He is not doing what?" Daavos spat out furiously, pacing up and down. He swung his sword at a nearby tree, yanking it out.

"Calm down, Daavos," Everra instructed.

"You are telling me that Robb Stark allowed an attempted rapist and killer to live? The honourable and noble Robb Stark?" Daavos asked disbelievingly.

"It would appear I've already begun to influence him," Everra said quietly.

They were a small distance away from the camp and were taking a much needed walk by the edge of the forest, a few guards trailing behind them. ]

"You told him not to kill Greyjoy after what he tried to do to you?" Daavos asked incredulously.

"No," Everra admitted, "but it makes sense if he does not. If Robb killed Theon he would be allowing Balon Greyjoy to rebel against him as the Starks would no longer have any leverage to prevent him from doing so."

Daavos swore loudly and grumbled out angrily, "I should walk up to that boy king and yank the stick out of his ass."

Everra was silent for a few moments, waiting for him to calm down.

"Threatening your king is treason," she reminded him. "You would be wise to keep thoughts like those to yourself."

Daavos nodded in obedience, his cheeks were still red with anger however, and his fists were still clenched at his sides tightly.

"I know, Daavos," Everra said, grabbing onto to his elbow, "I know."

There was a reason why he was the only person she could honestly say she cared for. She may not love him the way he loves her, or love him at all, but she did care for him. That meant something.

Love was the greatest advantage one could have over another.

 **A/N Okay guys. . . sorry this chapter was complete and utter crap and to put it quite simply, a filler chapter. The next chapter should pick things up again, I can't really decide on what I want to happen in this story yet. I come up with one thing and then I change it to another.. . But don't fear! I will finish this story and upload the next chapter as soon as I can. These characters are stubborn. Anyway, did you guys like this chapter. A lot Robb/ Everra interaction in this one, as well as Everra/Daavos. tell me, what do you think of each relationship? Going to fast? Too slowly? Would you like more backstory? Thanks again for your support guys! Remember to tell me your thoughts in your reviews. Until next time!**

 **Fiona Kevin 073**


	22. Chapter 20: The Child Monster

**Disclaimer! I do not own game of thrones. Waring! This story is NOT edited. Please try to ignore all grammatical errors. Thank you. There is sensitive subject matter in this chapter.**

Chapter 20

 _Later that same day_

"The Lannisters have gathered at Harrenhall," Everra said to Robb, pointing to it on the map.

"They have various different troops all over the Riverlands and the Westerlands while keeping enough at Kings Landing. We need to strike again and soon," Everra said.

The other lords nodded in agreement looking at Robb. Robb dragged his finger across the map saying, "There." His finger stopped at the border between the Westerlands and Riverlands.

"You said that the Lannisters have troops here correct?" He asked.

"Yes your grace," a Lord replied.

Robb nodded, his blue eyes flickering over the map, "We attack the Lannister troops which are at Oxcross."

All of them nodded in agreement.

"We slowly make our way over into the Westerlands, eliminating the Lannister troops coming our way. We must continue with the element of surprise," Robb finished.

"Give them another whispering wood," a lord muttered.

"Yes," Robb agreed offhandedly.

That was when guards stalked into the room, a small young man in between them, being dragged by his elbows.

Everra quickly tossed a paper onto of the map, hiding their markings.

"No need to do that my lady, he'll be dead before he leaves this tent," Lord Karstak said, drawing out his sword.

"We found him near the outskirts of the camp, your grace, a Lannister spy," a guard said.

Robb nodded and rose from his chair, taking a step forward, "Put your sword away," he ordered.

"Your grace!" Lord Karstak said, " You can't expect him to walk free, the Lannisters killed you father-"

"My father understood mercy where there is room for it," Robb hissed back, walking to the young man.

"How many men did you count?" Robb ordered coldly.

"40,000" the male replied, his head faced down, "Your grace."

Everra and Robb shared a brief look as they realised that he had counted at least 4,000 more men then they actually had.

"Let him go," Robb commanded.

"Your grace-" Everra broke out.

Robb turned to look at her, his eyes serious and stubborn and Everra knew she could not dissuade him, so she kept her mouth shut, choosing to instead watch observantly.

Robb took a few menacing steps forward and whispered in the mans ear, "Tell Tywin Lannister that winter is coming for him, 40,000 soldiers from both the north and the south to find out if he really does shit gold."

* * *

"Your grace," Everra called out as the rest of the lords left the tent.

"Lady Everra," Robb said, surprised. "What is it you wish to speak with me about?"

Everra visbly hesitated, clasping her hands together before saying, "I wish to go with your mother to talk to Renly."

Robb eyebrows rose in slight surprise, "Oh. Why?" He was suspicious of her intentions. He knew that his mother did not like her and that the feelings were reciprocated. They never spoke to one another, and if they did it was with the utmost hesitance.

"As you very well know, I am a young woman who is the head of a great house and eventually I must marry," Everra said, it was sounded forced, _rehearsed,_ the words coming out of her lips.

"And you wish to marry Renly?" Robb asked, "He is married to Margaery Tyrell-"

"I wish to marry Loras Tyrell, you grace," Everra corrected.

Silence.

"Why?" Robb asked bluntly.

"We need an alliance, a strong one. The Lannisters are the wealthiest house in Westeros and arguably the most powerful, with only the Tyrells matching them. The Tyrells are currently allied with Renly but if Renly died, they would most likely ally themselves with Lannisters. They want Margaery to be queen and they will do anything possible to make that happen."

"If Renly does die," Robb said, his confusion evident, "And if the Tyrells are allied with us, Margaery still can not be a queen. I am betrothed to a Frey and if Stannis to take the Iron throne, he is already married."

"Stannis will not rest until he is King of all the seven kingdoms, meaning, he does not recognise or accept you being the King in the North. Therefore, in order for you to win the war, he must also die. When he dies someone will have to take the Iron throne, a male most likely, allowing the Tyrells to wed Margaery off to the King."

Robb understood her point of view, really he did, but that did not mean that he liked it. Still, he was betrothed to someone else, someone he did not even know.

"As my King," Everra said, "Do you allow for me to create this alliance?"

Robb did not want to. By all the gods that existed in the world he did not want to.

"Yes," Robb said finally. Then another thought occurred to him, "Who are you taking with you?"

* * *

Jon pushed himself off the ground, a small grumble escaping his lips. Young bird was standing a small distance away, observing him.

Them being at war had not affected his training, and when Youngbird was not needed, he was training Jon for hours upon hours. Somedays with the sword, others with a spear and knives, sometimes it was simply doing tasks, such as running around the camp doing errands but occasionally, he would bring another soldier and they would fight. No swords, no spears, no knives. Just their fists and their legs.

After all, if you had no weapon with or on you, and you could not make one from your surroundings, how were you to defend yourself?

"Obedience and patience," Youngbird had said, "is key."

Jon grabbed his sword once more, positioning himself in the start position.

"Strike!" Youngbird called out.

Jon stepped forward, skilfully extending his sword forward, "Defend!"

Jon quickly brought his sword back into a defensive stance, waiting for his next instruction.

"Avoid!"

Jon brought his sword forward and tilted its angle, so it clashed against the imaginary sword in front of him. His body was tense, and the grip on his sword tight as he listened carefully.

"Roll!"

Jon dropped to the damp ground quickly, rolling over expertly, then jumping to his feet.

"Thats enough practice for today," Youngbird said.

Jon dropped his sword to his side slowly, panting.

He walked over to where a cup of water lay on a table and quickly gulped it down, putting it back on the table. On the table lay equipment that Jon had previously used, which he knew that by now, he was to put it back in the guarded armory. The armoury was a large tent, filled with racks upon racks of weapons, some of which Jon had never even known existed.

However, just as he was about to pick up the equipment Youngbirds voice broke out from behind him, "No, don't do that just yet Jon, you are needed elsewhere."

Jon turned around, slightly confused, but did not ask questions. An unsullied never asks questions.

He followed Youngbird quietly, tempted to ask where they were going. They walked for quite some distance before Young bird finally stopped in front of a tent and then moved out of the way, tilting his head to the side as a way to gesture for Jon to go inside.

Jon hesitated before entering the tent and was surprised when Youngbird did not come in after him. He was tempted to go back outside and ask him, but somehow he knew that he was mean to do this alone.

He turned his head back in front of him to observe his environment and was surprised t find himself in the medway, except it was empty. No healers, no patients, only empty cots.

A muffled cough suddenly filled the air and Jon noticed that he had been mistaken, there was someone in the room in the farthest cot from him.

Jon waited to see if someone would enter, but when no one did, he hesitantly walked forward to the cot, his heart pounding in his chest.

The man lying in the cot had scars covering every inch of his face except his eyes and lips, the scars were large scratch marks extending from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his chin, miraculously missing the lips and eyes. He had blue eyes, that looked more haunted and worn then any Jon had ever seen. They looked defeated and limp, like he was a dead man still breathing.

It was then that Jon noticed the blood leaking from his mouth. He scanned his eyes over the mans body, his eyes lingering on the missing left hand and the missing fingers on his right.

Jon eyes bulged as he noticed the long golden chain hanging from the boys neck, the face of a lion hanging from the end of the chain.

 _A Lannister soldier,_ he realised and almost took a step back before stopping.

The man was mouthing something to him and with what little strength he had he was curling what was left of his fingers, beckoning him towards him.

Jon hesitated only a moment before walking forward, his steps loud against the ground beneath him.

The man was desperately trying to say something, but Jon could not make out what he was saying. He leaned down, trying to make out what the man was saying.

"Kkkk-" the man was stuttering, "Kill me!" He rasped out, his voice desperate and tears sprung in his eyes. "Kill me!" He pleaded once more.

Jon heart froze.

"Healer!" He called out, "This man needs help!"

The blood was pouring out of the mans mouth uncontrollably now, a tear streaming down the mans face.

Jon shook his head as he stared at him, his desperation rising in his throat.

He tried to speak, to say something, _anything,_ that could help. But what could someone say to that. How could someone refuse? How could someone go through with it?

The man managed to rasp out one last time, " _Please."_

Jon looked around one last time, his desperation evident in his voice as he called out, "Someone come help, this man is bleeding!'

No one came.

By now Jon knew that no one would come.

This was his test. His ultimate test that would show whether or not he could be a true warrior.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the man.

Then he closed his eyes, prayed to someone, _anyone_ to forgive him, leaned over, and covered the mans nose and mouth with his hands.

He could feel the mans blood against his skin and the tears that were now steaming uncontrollably from his eyes. He struggled beneath Jon's hands out of instinct, his head trying to shift from side to side and muffled sounds escaped from his lips.

 _Let it be over,_ Jon begged.

Almost as if the man could hear him, he began to go limp under his hands, his haunted eyes beginning to dim and his body beginning to relax as his heart came to a stop. When the man had not moved for several moments, Jon lifted his hands from the mans face, a choked sound escaping his throat.

He sat on the cot behind him for a while, staring at the dead body in horrified silence and when he was not looking at the body, he was looking at his hands. His blood stained hands that had just been used to take a mans life.

His shaking, uncontrollable hands.

 _The man who passes the sentence must swing the sword._

How had his father managed?

Jon had been in battle before, he had killed but it had been different. It was either kill or be killed.

But now. . . he felt like a monster.

He was startled at the sudden touch of someones hand on his soldier, and his head snapped up in surprise as Lady Everra sat next to him on the cot.

"You did well," she said calmly, looking down at the body.

"How could I have done this _well?"_ Jon questioned lifelessly.

The numbness had begun to spread.

"I've been where you are right now, you know," she said, looking at him.

Jon did not look at her and instead continued to stare at the body.

"Is that so, my lady?" He asked numbly.

She nodded, her eyes serious.

"Everyone out there," she said, gesturing towards the entrance of the tent, "at least, the people in my army have done what you just did. Gone through the same test."

At Jon's skeptical expression she said, "You'd be surprised at the amount of people who want to die."

Jon swallowed loudly but still managed to ask, "How old were you when. . ." he drifted off, unsure of her reaction.

"Young," she said vaguely, "younger than most."

"Why?" Jon asked, "Why do this?"

He regretted asking it the moment the words left his mouth. Anna may have told him more about the woman next to him, about her mother, but from all he had seen, she was more like her father.

"Thats a story for another day," she replied, standing up abruptly.

"Your training is complete," she said, "Now you have your first. . . assignment."

"Assignment?" Jon asked.

"You are to accompany me and Lady Catelyn to go discuss terms with Renly Baratheon."

'Why do you want to discuss terms with Renly Baratheon?" Jon asked.

"It is a soldiers job to never ask their leaders questions and to do what they say, even if they ask you to plunge a sword through your heart. You should have learnt that by now," she said, looking down at him.

Jon nodded, and muttered, "Yes, my lady."

She hesitated before leaving, her eyes flickering over his face, "I. . ."

Jon looked up at her curiously, but whatever emotion that had appeared in her eyes quickly disappeared, "We leave at first light," she said, stalking out of the room.

* * *

" _Fa. . ."' the young girl trailed off, her voice small._

" _My lord," she quickly corrected, "I don't want to."_

 _They were in a dark dungeon, the only source of light coming from behind the door. Everra could still make out the bloodied face in front of her, the cracks lips, the haunted eyes. After all, she had been outside listening to him screaming as instructed._

" _You don't want to?" her father snarled, grabbing onto her shoulder roughly._

 _The young girl almost flinched, a natural instinct that came over whenever he was around, especially when he touched her._

" _Its either you take care of him or I do."_

 _There was no mistaking the threat in his voice._

 _The young girl nodded obediently, holding the knife in her palm limply._

 _Her father stepped back into the shadows, releasing his painful grip from Everra's shoulder._

 _She took a hesitant step forward, the anguish on her young face evident. No one this young should be doing what she was about to do._

 _The man in front of her was pleading with her, his dark eyes reflecting the down anguish on her face._

 _A tear slipped down her cheek and a sob almost escaped from her tightly closed lips._

 _Her small hands tightened their grip on the knife in her hand and as they began to shake, she lifted it to his neck._

 _Please, the mans eyes were pleading, please._

 _Another tear slipped down her cheek and she angrily wiped at it._

 _Emotions showed weakness. Her father told her that everyday._

 _She pressed the knife tightly against the mans neck, a sliver of blood appearing._

 _Just as she was about to press the knife into the mans neck and take them both out of their misery , she was suddenly bombarded with images of her mother. Her smile, her laugh, her kindness, her misery._

 _The knife slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor._

" _Failure of a child," her father muttered from behind her._

 _Everra could not even hear him and was instead frozen at the sight of the mans wide eyes, filled with betrayal and hurt._

 _I'm sorry, she pleaded desperately internally, I'm so sorry._

 _Her lips trembled and her eyes closed at the sound of the screams that had just begun to fill the air._

"My lady?" Catelyn asked from behind her.

Everra whirled around from where she was standing in her tent, startled at the sight of the older Stark standing a small distance behind her.

"I called out a few times, but you did not answer," Catelyn said gently.

Everra nodded and then said, "Apologies, I was just. . . thinking."

Catelyn nodded in understanding, she had been doing a lot of thinking too lately.

Everra then straightened her back, her eyes hardening as it fully occurred to her whom was in her tent, "How may I help you, Lady Catelyn?"

Catelyn hesitated a moment, before a sudden fierceness entered her eyes, "Why are you helping my son?" she asked bluntly.

It had been bothering her for some time, Catelyn could never understand why the younger woman was there, why she was helping.

Everra stiffened ever so slightly and said, "Why. Why do people do this and why do people do that? Its a never ending cycle of questions, one which I've learned never gets answered. I stopped questioning _why_ people do things a long time ago and focused on the fact that they are actually doing things. You should learn to do so as well."

"That is not an answer," Catelyn responded coldly.

Everra shrugged indifferently and then asked, 'Why does it matter to you?"

"It matters because he is _my son._ My first child and I want to know that he can trust those whose council he takes into account."

Everra regarded the older woman carefully and though it pained her to admit it, she admired the woman's protectiveness over her children, the love she bore them. She had never seen a mother so devoted to her children. It made being around her that much more difficult.

"Let your doubts be put to rest, Lady Catelyn, I have your sons best interests at heart."

Catelyn regarded her suspiciously, her voice laced with uncertainty as she asked, "Why should I believe you?"

"Why shouldn't you?" Everra countered, "Lady Catelyn if there is one thing that you can be absolutely certain about is that I always do what I consider best for the realm. Ro- His grace is the best thing for the realm. He has the potential to be one of the greatest Kings Westeros has ever seen."

The suspicion is Catelyns eyes began to dim as she looked at the woman before her and nodded slowly, "Yes, I suppose you are right."

They did not speak to each other for the rest of the evening.

Everra did not like Catelyn Stark. Mostly because she reminded her of her mother. Not appearance wise, while her mother was tan with waist long raven hair and dark brown eyes and a kind but meek smile, Catelyn Stark was her precise opposite. She was auburn haired, pale skinned and with serious but compassionate blue eyes.

No, Catelyn Stark did not remind her of her mother appearance wise.

She reminded her of her mother because she was the physical representation of everything she had lost. Her mother's misery, her brother's sadness, her mother dying.

Catelyn Starks mere existence was a constant reminder that she was here, was alive while her mother was not. That _she_ married the man her mother loved, not her mother. That _she_ bore his children. At least, his legitimate ones.

Everra could not let go of the bitterness that grew in her heart every time she laid her eyes on Catelyn Stark.

Not that she particularly wanted to for that matter.

She was not helping Robb because she thought he could be 'one of the greatest Kings Westeros had ever seen'. She was helping him because she had once made a vow to her mother to try rid the world of the horrible people that plagued it. The powerful that preyed on the powerless. People like her father.

It was a shame that she became one of those people in order to fulfil her promise.

* * *

Everra had not been able to rest the entire night and had simply laid there in bed, her eyes staring blankly ahead. She could practically feel the black circles growing around her eyes, a reminder of her constant tiredness.

She had slowly climbed out of bed, shrugging off her nightgown and wiped a damp cloth across her body, her hand lingering at the scar at the side of her hip.

 _Everra had been shoved onto the floor, her small body landing with a loud thud on the stone floor beneath her. Her green eyes had widened with fear, as her father stumbled towards her, the stench of the alcohol on his breath reaching her from where she was on the floor._

 _She scrambled backwards, her back coming into contact with the wall behind her._

" _My lord," she said, her voice wavering._

" _Shut up!" he snarled mumbling._

 _The laces of his tunic had come undone, revealing numerous scars. When he was drunk beyond reason, he would take of his tunic and begin tracing his scars with his finger, mumbling 'please father, it hurts'._

 _Everra almost whimpered but instead shoved her hand in front of her mouth, praying to all the gods for him not to hurt her. She had not meant to upset him. She had simply put flowers on her mothers grave- two days ago. She thought he had forgotten that her mother had died three years ago,her anniversary being two days ago._

 _Apparently not, if him constantly being drunk the past few days said anything._

' _Your the reason why she is dead," he managed to say, his identical green eyes flashing with anger._

" _Why should you be alive and happy while she rots in the ground?" He questioned, taking a few steps closer to her._

 _Happy? Everra thought, her eyes brimming with tears. Her life was a living hell._

" _You should be as unhappy as I am," he muttered drunkenly, stepping closer._

 _Everra's heart began to pound with fear as he stepped closer to her and began to shake. Her bones felt heavy under her skin, so heavy she felt as though she could not move._

" _Please, father," she whispered._

 _There were two guards standing nearby, their heads faced away from them. No one liked what was about to happen, but they were not about to stop it either._

" _Just as unhappy as I am," her father said._

 _But what happened next was not something a father does to his child. Something that no child should ever have to endure._

 _When it was finished tears were streaming down Everra's face, a large bruise beginning to appear on her cheek. Her. . . father had just walked out of the hall, barely managing to stand on his own two feet._

 _She heard footsteps coming towards her and curl herself into a ball. If it was her Septa coming to tell her to get of the floor. . ._

 _It wasn't._

" _Everra," Lord Edwin said gently, extending out his hand._

 _Everra looked up at him through her tears and remembered that he and her mother had been close, he had made her mother smile occasionally, even when Everra could not._

 _So, she gently laid one of her small hands into his palm, and he gently lifted her from the floor, placing her cheek against the crook of his neck._

 _When they reached her chambers, Everra had fully begun to sob, her small body violently shaking._

 _He patted her head comfortingly, allowing her to cry for a long time._

" _Everra," he whispered, "what did he do to you?"_

 _She froze for a moment before whispering back, "The usual. He hit me, yelled at me."_

 _He did not say anything in turn, what could he say to comfort her? What could possibly make her feel better?_

 _As Everra began to drift off to sleep, loosening her hold around his neck, he finally thought of something. The only thing he could think of that would relieve her from this living hell. Something her mother refused to do._

 _So as he quietly extracted himself from the girls hold, he left her something._

 _When Everra eventually awoke from her slumber, she was greeted to the sight of a large glistening knife on her night stand._

 _That was when the anger and numbness crept into her heart._

 _Her young innocent heart._

 _The anger that slowly transformed her into a monster capable of doing anything._

Everra then lifted a simple black dress over head.

She would not apologise for what she did. For what made her into a monster.

After all, no one ever apologised for making her that way.

 **A/N Hey guys, this has got to be the darkest thing i have ever written in my life. It reveals a lot about Everra, how she thinks, more of her backstory. I realised that Everra has only been slightly developed and due to recent reviews, I figured that it was finally time to give people a little more insight into Everra's childhood and how she kind of came who she is now. Also, your response to last chapter was amazing guys! Sorry that there is not a lot of robb/Everra interaction in this chapter, but there was a lot of Jon in this one. He should be a lot more involved now in the story. Also, I feel as though I may have confused people somewhere, but let me clarify, Everra's mother is dead. Has been for years. I'm not a big fan of those kind of reveals like oh I'm going to let you think this person is dead but in some sort of really confusing plot twist they are revealed t be alive. No. Everra's mother and father are dead. Just to clarify. Anyway, remember to tell me your thoughts, it means so much to me. Also, MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS! All of you are awesome!**


	23. Chapter 21: Defying Expectations

**I do not own game of thrones or the novels. Also, this story is not edited, please try to ignore all grammatical errors. Thank you.**

Chapter 21

When Everra, Catelyn and Jon arrive in the Stormlands, Everra can not help but feel relieved. The tension and dislike between her two other companions is something that she had known of, but severely underestimated.

She never would have thought Catelyn Stark of being so cruel to a child. It made her bitterness grow twice the size it was originally, before they had ridden together for a few long weeks.

Some of the other soldiers looked at them warily, their eyes narrowing into glares and shouts erupted from the crowd as the small group moved forward, a group of soldiers leading the way.

They came into the sight of two knights fighting, a man rising from his chair to clap in encouragement, a golden crown placed on his head. A beautiful blonde haired woman was sitting next to him, her blue eyes watching the fight without enthusiasm and they widened slightly at the sight of them.

 _Margaery Tyrell,_ Everra notes. She was not to be underestimated.

The fight before them stopped, one of the warriors had managed to pin the other beneath them, pointing their sword at the others neck.

"Yield," the soldier pinned down exclaimed loudly, "I yield."

Everra observed Margaery's disappointed expression and came to the realisation of who the solider was.

"That is Loras Tyrell," she whispers to Jon, who looks at her from the corner of his eye, his brown eyes startled.

"Well fought," Renly announced, clapping his hands together.

The soldier lowered their sword and sheathed it, walking forward and kneeling in front of Renly.

"Rise," Renly says, "Remove your helmet."

The soldier removes their helmet and Everra is slightly surprised at the sight of a woman beneath the helmet.

Everra felt something very akin to respect as she looked at the woman, women who became soldiers, never mind good ones, were very hard to come by.

"Your what your father promised and more, my lady," Renly says, a smile appearing on his face, "I've seen Ser Loras bested at least once or twice, but never in that fashion."

Loras locked his jaw in frustration and annoyance and Margaery speaks as if on cue, "Now, now, my love, my brother fought valiantly for you."

"That he did, my queen," Renly agrees, looking at his wife, "but there can only be one champion. Brienne of Tarth, ask anything of me you desire, if it is within my power, it is yours."

Everra's suspicions about Renly Baratheon were confirmed, he was both arrogant and conceited. His charisma may be his only redeemable feature.

Brienne kneels once more in front of him and says in a loud, firm voice, "Your grace, I ask for a place in your Kingsguard."

The angered whispers are immediately heard from the crowd, some of them even gasping.

"I will be one of your seven," she continued, "pledge my life to yours and protect you from all harm."

Loras seemed to be trying to communicate with Renly, shaking his head slightly and mouthing the word no.

"Done," Renly announces, "Rise Brienne of the Kingsguard."

Margaery claps slowly, looking slightly displeased as she regards Brienne in front of her. She did not like her brother being humiliated but she would not show it.

The crowd begins to clap slowly, not very pleased with the turn of events. The Knight in front of them walks in front of Brienne and speaks loudly, "Your grace, I have the honour to present to you, Lady Catelyn Stark, and Lady Everra Legrath. Sent as envoys by Lady Catelyn's son, Robb, Lord Of Winterfell."

"Lord of Wintefell," Catelyn announces, "and King in the North."

The crown quiets down considerably and Everra can hear the whispers. She reaches upwards and removes the hood from her head, showing her face to Renly and Margaery.

"Lady Catelyn, pleased to see you," Renly says pleasantly and then shifts his eyes to Everra, "My, my the rumours of your beauty have been proved true my lady."

"Thank you, your grace," Everra acknowledges.

"May I present my wife, Margaery of House Tyrell," Renly gestures to Margaery, who nods.

She looks at Catelyn and says sincerely, "You are very welcome here, Lady Stark, Lady Legrath. Lady Stark, I am so sorry for your loss."

Everra notices how Catelyn's eyes flash with grief and pain for a brief moment, before it quickly disappears, "You are most kind," Catelyn says shakily.

"My lady," Renly says fiercely,"I swear to you, the Lannister's will pay for your husbands murder, when I take Kings Landing, I will bring you Joffrey's head."

The crowd cheered loudly and Everra felt tempted to roll her eyes in annoyance. This man's arrogance is what got him killed in the first place.

"How brave," Everra mutters under her breath.

Renly's smile disappears as he looks at her and says, "Are you doubting my chances of killing the Lannister's?"

"As long as justice is served, my lord," Catelyn juts in, sending Everra a reprimanding look.

"Your grace," a voice intervenes.

Everra and Catelyn turn to see Brienne looking at them stoically, "And you should kneel before the King."

"No need for that," Renly says warmly, "Lady Catelyn and Lady Everra are honoured guests."

"Has your son marched against Tywin Lannister yet?" A voice behind them demands.

Catelyn looks back briefly, as does Everra, and somehow she is not surprised to see a demanding looking Loras Tyrell staring at them.

"I do not sit on my sons war councils and if I did, I would not share his strategies with you," Catelyn replies coldly.

"Yeah but you do I'll bet," he says, gesturing to Everra.

Everra looks at him coldly for a moment, before turning to look at Renly once more.

"If Robb Stark wants a pact with us he should come himself, not hide behind a ladies skirt."

Everra suddenly severely regrets ever asking to create a marriage alliance with Loras Tyrell.

"My son is fighting a war," Catelyn snaps, "Not playing at one."

The insult is immediate and clear, the crowd around them erupts into angered whispers at once.

Really rises from his seat and looks at them, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, before smiling and walking down the stairs leading to them.

"Never mind my ladies," he says, grabbing onto Everra's hand, "Our war is just beginning."

Everra does not move when he begins to pull her with him, looking down at his hand in hers coldly, and raises an eyebrow at him when he turns around to look at her questioningly.

"Well, well, well,' Renly says, chuckling, removing his hand from hers, "It seems all the other rumours about you were true as well, my lady."

Everra can feel Jon stiffen from behind them, Ghost beginning to growl softly.

"I hope I live up to your expectations, your grace," she replies, trying to insert some form of warmness into her voice.

"I am more than certain you shall," Renly replies, smiling.

Something was not right.

Everra could feel it.

Not wrong. . . but _different._

"There is someone very eager to meet the both of you," Renly says, leading them away from the crowd.

Everra and Catelyn glance at each other quickly, before Everra asks, "Who, might I ask, your grace?"

"Why Lady Olenna Tyrell, the queen of thorns," Renly muses.

Everra's heart dropped.

* * *

"Your grace," Lord Bolton says, "We are beginning to leave for the Westerlands."

Robb turned to look at him, his hands clasping together in front of him, "Thank you for your notice, Lord Bolton."

The decision to attack the Oxcross had been a unanimous one, but nevertheless, Robb could still hear his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

If he lost he would no doubt lose the faith of his men and fellow lords and of course, a certain lady.

The thought made his heart drop in his chest, and the fear in his chest intensify.

"You may go now, Lord Bolton," Robb says politely.

He wanted to be alone.

Lord Bolton nodded and bowed, leaving the room quickly, leaving Robb alone with only his thoughts for company.

Uncertainty was dangerous, confidence was the key, he knew that, but he had to be careful not to let confidence slip into arrogance and arrogance into ignorance.

He would not become like those he had vowed to destroy.

* * *

"Lady Olenna it is a pleasure to meet you," Everra said, her green eyes landing on the older woman in front of her.

Lady Olenna raised a skeptical eyebrow at her, and said, "Yes quite a pleasure it is, Lady Everra, I have heard much about you."

Everra nods at her and sat down in front of her, silence filling the air. Renly had wished to speak to Catelyn on his own and so Everra came to meet the 'Queen Of Thorns'. She may as well do this privately.

"What do you want?" The older woman asks bluntly.

"I'm afraid I don't quite know what you mean?" Everra asks innocently.

The older woman waves a hand at her and says, "Oh come of it, Lady Everra we both know you to be far more cunning and colder than that. After all, you are the girl who made a fool of The Lannister's and the King on the Iron Throne. You're smart, intelligent even, start acting like it."

"Very well," Everra says, her eyes snapping into their usual coldness, "I wish to marry your grandson in order to create an alliance between our two houses."

Silence.

The older woman regarded her with an air of peculiarity, as if sh was something she could not quite figure out.

"Why?" she asks finally, "Do you want gold? More power?"

They both regard each theory carefully, two hunters surrounding each other. Testing the other, to see what happens, how they react. What will break them.

"Everyone you've met over the past gods know how many years of your life have always had some secret motive, some other desire that they do not tell you about . After a while, you start to pride yourself on being able to sniff it out within moments of meeting them or hearing of them. I understand because I do it too. I want an alliance because our houses understand one another. Our ancestors may not have been close but that does not mean that we can not start anew."

"New beginnings," Lady Olenna scoffs loudly and then chuckles, "You never struck me as the type who believed in such things."

"I pride myself on always managing to change people's expectations of me," Everra says.

"The Starks have changed you," the older woman replies after a few moments.

Everra stiffens at her words and has this sudden urge to protest and has to quell it down with all her might.

"Done," the older woman says.

"You agree to the alliance between our two houses?" Everra asks.

Lady Olenna shrugs and replies, "Your beautiful, you and my grandson will have beautiful children. You are the leader of the third most wealthiest family in Westeros and you're not stupid," she pauses for a moment before saying, "my grandson could do a lot worse."

Everra lets out a small amused sound from her lips as she regards the older woman, "Thank you, my lady. I am sure our two kings will be most pleased with this sudden turn of events."

The older woman simply raises her eyebrows and says, "Oh I'm sure they will."

* * *

When Everra makes it back to the tent Renly presented her with, a rare nervousness has crept into her heart and when Jon walks into her tent she is pacing back and forth, her eyebrows drawn into a frown.

 _She wasn't there before, she wasn't there before,_ she kept muttering under her breath.

"My lady, is all well?" Jon asks from the entrance.

Everra keept on pacing back and forth and simply replied, "Yes, yes, Jon, everything is fine."

Everything was obviously not fine. She could only think of one thing.

If this had changed. . . . what else had?

The better question really was. . . . _what else would change?_

 **Dun dun dun. This is where I leave you guys, this chapter. It has been a while, and this is the first update of the new year! Thank you all for your response to last chapter, it means a lot to me. Again, another filler chapter, I planned to include more in this chapter but I was having a little bit of writers block. I will happily tell you however, that I have written some of the last chapters of this story. I am anxious for you guys to read it and well, anxious and sad for us to get there. Anyway, tell me your thoughts on this chapter? Do you like the interactions with Everra and Olenna? Do you want me to include something? Did I miss something? Is there something you think I should change? Tell me in your reviews and remember you can PM me if you have any questions. Happy new year! All of you are awesome.**


	24. Chapter 22: Head and Heart

**I don't own Game of Thrones. This story is not edited, try to ignore all grammatical errors. Thank you. Also, this story is getting quite AU from here on out. Future events will not be exactly like it happened it the tv show or characters aren't like how they are in the tv show. Just a heads up! :)**

Chapter 22

When Everra woke up, she felt a sharp pain near her right hip, spreading towards the middle of her stomach. There's something damp pressed against where her stomach is on fire and something sticky as well. She recognises the feeling, the texture against her skin. . . but _how?_

She couldn't remember anything.

Images blurred into one until she could no longer tell what had happened and what had not.

Her eyes continually dragging shut did not help matters either.

"Lady Everra?" A familiar voice asked.

Everra could feel that person moving closer and realised that she was lying below a large tree, her head hitting the trunk.

Her thoughts were still incoherent, words were not coming to her lips as she struggled to reply.

"Don't move," Jon said, his face coming into view above her.

Everra frowned, looking around slowly, trying to minimise the amount of movement she was doing.

"What happened?" She managed to rasp out weakly.

She was slowly beginning to become more aware of her surroundings and heard a sudden _crack_ in the distance. As if a twig had just snapped in the distance.

She tensed at the sound, a look of alarm appearing in her eyes but Jon quickly stated, "Its okay, its just Andromache or Ghost."

There was something he was not telling her. . . he had this hesitance and sadness in his eyes. No, not sadness more like regret. As though he had suddenly aged ten years in—. . . How long had she'd been sleeping?

That was when something hit her.

A realisation.

One that sent a sliver of guilt down to her gut.

"Jon," she asked hesitantly, "where is Lady Catelyn?"

He looked away briefly, his eyes flashing with something Everra could not identify. Pain, grief, sadness, anger, bitterness, regret. . .

 _No,_ she thought, _no._

 _Robb._

"My lady," Jon said bluntly, all of the emotions Everra saw flashing in his eyes disappearing the moment his mouth opened, "Lady Catelyn is dead."

* * *

Grey wind was snarling and ripping at the lifeless corpse beneath him, his snout covered in blood. Robb almost winced at the gruesome sight but what as he looks down at himself, he knew he had no right to wince.

His armour was stained with blood- blood that was not his. Blood that he had spilt. From a mothers son, from a wife's husband, from someones father or brother. He knew it was necessary, he _knew_ that. He was no fool.

That did not mean he liked it.

When he was in battle, Robb felt as though nothing was real. As if it were all some dream and that he was not thrusting his sword through someone. It was a peculiar feeling, one which deep down, he knew was an excuse.

For what he did not know or want to admit.

They had won the battle but that did not mean they had won the war. Robb constantly reminded himself of that.

He looked around him, the stench of blood and death suddenly overwhelmed him until he felt as though he was about to collapse. Soldiers both from the Lannister's and Starks lay on the floor beneath him. Flies had begun to swarm around the corpses and smoke could be seen rising into the

sky.

"Your grace?" A tired voice ask.

Robb turned around to see Ser Daavos staring tiredly at him, panting. He was leaning on his sword, blood and sweat splattered across his face. Robb felt relieved as he looked at him, glad that he was alive. A small selfish part of him acknowledged deep down that he was not relieved because he liked Ser Daavos a lot, or even enjoyed his company but because of _her._ She cared about the man in front of him.

Robb felt slightly worried as he thought of Everra, all he had heard from her in the weeks she had been gone was that she had succeeded in achieving the marriage alliance between herself and Renly, but other than that, not a word. Nothing. Nor from his mother either. He felt wary and had this undeniable feeling as though something was about to happen.

To him. To them.

"Ser Daavos," Robb returns after a few moments, "I am glad you are alive and not hurt."

"Thank you for your concern, your grace," the older man replied, diverting his grey eyes from his.

Robb regarded the man, careful not to reveal what he was thinking. He had always had a lingering suspicion that the knight did not like him, he did not know why, he had rarely spoken to the man but every time they had interacted it was always with the slightest hint of animosity and hostility. It grew when Robb revealed his decision to let Theon live. He remembered seeing the man eye him for a moment, anger in his eyes, before a pointed look from Everra made him divert his gaze.

Theon.

Robb tried not to think of Theon much and whenever he did happen to enter his thoughts he distracted himself with anything around him. He could still not understand how a man he considered to be his brother could do such a thing. How he could try rape and murder an innocent woman in _his_ name.

Innocent.

The word sounded strange when used to describe the formidable woman in question. Innocent she was not, she was cold and more experienced in the art of killing despite the fact that she was at least a year younger than him. Robb admired her. More than he liked to admit.

More than he would let himself admit anyway.

"Your grace!" voices were calling from the distance. His lords wanted to speak with him, to discuss what would happen with the prisoners.

Robb suddenly felt tired, so tired he was almost swaying on his feet.

The two men nodded at each other in their last act of acknowledgement towards each other and Robb somehow knew that Ser Daavos was thinking of Robb in the same way. After all, the only thing they had in common was her.

* * *

 _There was fire and flames that erupted around her and surrounded her. People were screaming and yelling but one scream echoed throughout the rest. It sounded as though the woman screaming was doing it as though she was feeling all the pain and grief she had ever felt in her life at once._

 _There was a shadow approaching her, standing above her. Where eye's should have been there was only darkness but there was something familiar about the shadows face. Everra looked up from where she lay on the ground, her eyes widening as she finally put together whom the shadow looked like._

" _Robb?'" she whispered._

"My lady wake up!" A voice was exclaiming loudly, shaking her shoulders.

Everra's eyes opened immediately, startled at the sight of Jon directly above her.

When he realised that she was awake his hands immediately left her shoulders, leaning back.

"You were screaming, my lady, and shaking," Jon said, his voice small.

Everra nodded her thanks and propped herself up on her elbows, slowly, the pain in her stomach erupting once more. Her cloak was spread above her and she hesitantly lifted it from her body, peeking down at her stomach. She was met with the sight of a soaked cloth pressed down against her stomach, the dress she was wearing had a long gash, revealing the pale skin beneath. Blood stained the skin surrounding the large wound and Everra laid on her back, sighing.

"Who did this to me?" She asked, looking up to look Jon in the eye.

His eyes were conflicted as he looked at her and debated whether or not to tell her the truth. What he saw anyway.

"Tell me," she said more affirmatively, her green eyes flashing.

"It was a shadow," he whispered, his brown eyes downcast, "With Robb's face on it."

He gulped loudly, the sound filling the air. A small bark echoed shortly after followed by a snarl.

Still Everra's face was not affected. Her eyes had widened slightly and she felt something near her heart. A piercing feeling was rushing through her chest, a feeling she had not felt in a long time.

Hurt.

"A shadow?" she asked quietly, "sent to kill me?"

Jon looked at her sadly, his mouth twisting, "One was sent to Renly Baratheon too and he is now _dead,"_ Everra finished with him.

Her eyes flickered downwards and her face was tensed as she concentrated on the ground below, her eyebrows drawn together.

"I am guessing I am no longer betrothed am I?" she asked softly, her eyes flickering back up to Jon's.

Jon hesitated again, a loud breath leaving his lips.

"I. . ." he drifted off, "No you are not."

"Stannis?" She asked, "He's gotten all of Renly's soldiers has he not?"

Jon nodded limply.

"Are any of the Tyrell's dead?" She asked.

"No," Jon answered.

Everra nodded, her mouth twisting bitterly. She shook her head as if trying to ease some thoughts from her mind and tilted her face to the other side, away from Jon. She needed to be alone for a few moments. Some time to process.

Jon looked down at her and felt conflicted. Robb was his brother, he loved him but she had taken him in, given him a home, a future and he was thankful to her for that. If Robb did try to kill her, he did not know whom he would chose.

He felt obligated somehow, to do something and so he hesitantly placed his hand on hers.

Her hand was cold when he touched it and he almost recoiled at the feeling before relaxing and gripping onto her hand more tightly.

* * *

 _Everra dreamed of screams laughter and a woman with dark red hair, with a snarl on her face. Another man was next to her, mounted on his horse, he somehow looked familiar, Stannis._

" _I don't trust fanatics," she was saying._

 _The man snarled at her and suddenly burst into flames._

 _The image disappeared and then she was suddenly in her tent, braiding her hair when a sudden scream erupted throughout the camp. She finished the last braid before tying her hair and a grabbing one of her knives, peaking her head through the exit of the tent. People were scattering all of the place, yelling and running, panic etched on their faces._

 _Everra stepped out of the tent fully, taking in the scene around her before retreating back into her tent and reaching for her cloak. She wrapped it around her shoulders, tying it together before exiting the tent again, gripping the knife tightly in her palm._

 _The fire was spreading now and had almost reached her when she grabbed the skirt of her dress and began to ran in the opposite direction, shoving though men and brushing past them. It was only when she had been running for a good ten minutes did she think of Jon and Catelyn._

 _She stopped in her tracks but people continued to barrel forwards, their shoulders connecting with hers._

 _She turned around, her eyes skimming over the crowd, trying to find any sight of them but the crowd kept on carrying her further on, Tyrell's and Baratheon's forming into one._

 _Her head was telling her to move forward, to survive as that is what she did best, no matter the cost. Thats what she had always done, followed her head and never her heart. Had silenced it, until it was nothing more than the occasional whisper. The rare temptation. She could hear the whisper now, calling to her. . . ._

 _He's your brother, it was whispering._

 _Everra closed her eyes tightly, clutched her knife tighter in her palm and began to run against the crowd, her eyes almost squinting away from the brightness of the fire in front of her._

" _Jon!" she yelled, her eyes skimming the crowd, "Jon!"_

 _That was when their was a large pain against the back of her head and she fell onto her stomach, drifting into unconsciousness._

 _When she woke it was only a short time later and people were still running and yelling around her. She managed to lift her head slowly, peering around her. The fire had spread around the camps and now most of the screams were no longer of panic but of excruciating pain._

 _Jon? She thought, where was Jon?_

 _She felt somebody watching her, something that made a shiver run through her spine. Her muscles tensed and she began to pat the grass around her, searching for her knife._

 _She felt a presence above her and slowly lifted her head to look at the. . . thing above her. It was darkness in the form of a man, he was holding a long, large sword, his dark silhouette standing still. Everra's long fingers managed to grab a hold onto the cool metal of her knife and she gripped it tightly._

 _He raised the sword above his head, lifting it so it was directly above her head but before he could bring it back down, Everra leapt forward, shoving her knife into the shadows stomach whilst scratching the area near his hipbone._

 _She groaned in sudden pain as the sensation of a knife driving through a point in her stomach and a long scratch appeared near her hipbone. Exactly where she had injured the shadow._

 _She fell onto the floor, looking at the shadow whom merely reached for the knife and yanked it out of his stomach, unaffected._

 _She gasped loudly, pain evident in her voice as she clutched her stomach, blood seeping through her dress and onto her fingers._

They were moving.

Everra could tell even though her eyes were closed and when they opened she was realised that she was elevated above the ground, her legs on either side of a horse. She blinked slowly, realising that both Andromache and Ghost were on each side of the horse, where as Jon was leading it, clutching its reigns.

The pain in her stomach was still there, lingering under the surface. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped, due to the cloth wrapped around her waist, covering the wound, though it was sticking to her skin.

Everra noticed how Jon's tunic was ripped haggardly at the bottom.

It was the same colour of the material around her waist.

Her mind began to drift off to Lady Catelyn and most frowned as she thought of the older woman's death.

She did not like the woman, she would not say differently just because the woman was dead but the love she bore her children was admirable. If only she had extended it to a child whom did not pick whom brought him into he world.

Though Everra knew she was being rather hypocritical, defending her brother and criticising Catelyn while she had done far worse things in her shorter lifetime.

Her eyes began to drift shut as the pain in her stomach erupted once more.

When she woke, she was lying on the ground once more, her back against a tree. The sky was dark and Jon had just begun to start a fire, though a small one, rubbing his hands together. Andromache sat on the side of her, purring.

"She has not left your side, my lady," Jon said when he noticed that she was awake, "You have a very faithful animal."

"When did she get here?" Everra rasped out, moving her eyes from Andromache to Jon.

He shrugged and replied, "I don't know, she was there when I found you. When that thing was beginning to disappear. . ."

A heavy silence fell upon them as he finished his sentence.

Everra looked around, her eyes narrowing, "Is it safe here?" She asked, "We are out in the open."

"Ghost and Andromache will keep us safe," Jon said, "they haven't slept for longer than an hour since we left."

Judging by the black circles around his eyes, Everra knew that they weren't the only ones sleeping for only an hour.

"Go to sleep," she instructed, "get some rest. Your the only one of us whom is still up on their own two feet, you must be able to think properly."

Jon looked at her doubtfully and said, "My lady what if you fall asleep?"

"If I feel myself falling asleep I will wake you up, Jon," Everra replied, coldly.

There was no room in her voice for discussion.

"Rest," she commanded.

The pain suddenly came back in full force, so suddenly that she gasped loudly, her jaw tightening as the pain spread throughout her body.

Jon stood up quickly, rushing over to her and knelt by her side, grabbing onto her shoulder.

"My lady are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Everra gulped loudly before managing to pant out, "Your knife."

Jon frowned and asked, "What? Why-"

"You need to put the blade in the fire and press it onto my stomach to stop the bleeding," Everra cut in, glaring at him fiercely.

Jon visibly paled at her words, "No-" he stuttered, "I can't- What if- what if I kill you?"

"You won't," Everra snapped, "Now put the edge of your sword in the fire."

Jon hesitantly rose from where he was next to her and unsheathed his sword, carefully placing it so that only the edge of the sword was put in the flames.

"We need to unwrap this cloth," Everra said, shifting slightly, "I need you to help me."

Jon nodded and moved forward to sit next to her.

"You're going to have to lift my back so that I will be able to unwrap the cloth from my waist, is that clear?" She asked, her green eyes dark.

Jon nodded, wordlessly and gently placed his hands under her back, lifting her gently. A small gasp of pain escaped her lips as she was lifted but she quickly got her hands working and managed to unwrap the cloth, placing it on her other side.

Jon put her down quickly and looked worriedly at her as she winced, her discomfort evident on her face.

"Water?" she rasped out, "do we have any water?"

Jon nodded and jumped to his feet, running to the horse and getting his water, running back and gently pressing the sack to her lips. When she was finished her removed it and placed it on the ground next to him, looking at her, concern building in his chest.

She looked down at her stomach, where there was a large hole in her dress and was relived that she would not have to cut it more. She had no desire to have a knife anywhere near her at the current moment.

The wound was bleeding once more, a small trickle of blood running down her stomach. A thought occurred to her as she was staring down at her stomach and she frowned, looking at Jon.

"Do we have anything for me to bite on?" She asked.

Jon frowned and replied, "For what. . ."

For when she screamed.

She did not say it aloud, but the answer was obvious in her eyes.

"Would cloth be alright, my lady?" He asked, looking down at his shirt.

"No," Everra replied, "its not. . . _strong enough._ "

Her eyes scanned the ground until it came upon a medium sized twig and she managed to lift her arm to point at it, "There, bring me that."

Jon nodded once more and leaned over to get it, gently dusting it with his fingers, removing all the ants and other bugs.

"That will just have to do," she muttered, shifting upwards.

They sat there in silence for a while, Everra's eyes drifting towards the sword in the fire. She felt a small pang of an unfamiliar feeling near her heart before she steeled herself against it.

"Jon," she said, her eyes meeting his, "It's time."

Jon swallowed loudly, his face paling once more, looking quite ill.

Before he stood, Everra handed him the blood stained fabric and Jon hesitantly wrapped it against one of his hand and made his way towards the fire, grabbing the sword's handle gingerly.

Everra gulped loudly as Jon turned around gripping the sword in his hands. The edge had transformed to a menacing orange and Everra could practically hear it sizzling from where she lay.

 _Grow up,_ she snapped to herself harshly, _you've been through a lot worse._

She grabbed the fallen branch and curled her the hand into fist, her nails digging so hard into the skin she was sure she drew blood.

Jon sat down carefully next to her, careful not to turn himself or her accidentally.

"Are you sure. . ." he drifted off, knowing it was useless.

Everra nodded wordlessly and place the small branch in her mouth, biting onto it tightly.

Jon closed his eyes and pressed the burning tip on the wound.

Everra was trying as hard as she could to keep her yell of pain deep in her throat but was failing tremendously and her muffled shouts could be heard. Andromache had begun snarling at Jon and Ghost had woken, coming to Jon's side.

Everra managed to place her arm on Andromache back and and squeezed, the smooth fur beneath her fingers almost comforting.

Something wet and unfamiliar began to cloud her vision and she realised indignantly that her eyes were brimming with tears.

These Starks were making her soft.

 **A/N Hey guys, its been a while. How are all of you? Anyway, thanks so much for the response to last chapter, I am so happy to say that we have over 100 FAVOURITES FOR BLOOD MUST HAVE BLOOD AND OVER 50 REVIEWS! Thank you so much guys! It means a lot.**

 **As you guessed Marvelmyra in your review, (which is not showing up for some reason), things are getting quite AU from here so expect to experience some major changes. Though I am so happy for how this story is going, I am really sad to say that I will not be updating for about a month. I have exams and other important school work to do and i need to to focus on them so this will be the last chapter for a while. Sorry about that guys, I hope you understand. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. tell em your thoughts in the review section. Until next time!**


	25. Chapter 23: Weakness Be Damned

**Disclaimer, game of thrones does not belong to me. I only own the original characters. Warning, this story is not edited, please try to ignore all grammatical errors. Thank you.**

 **A/N Hey guys, my god it has been sooooo long. I've missed this story so much, you guys have been absolutely amazing. Your response to last chapter was great, you guys are awesome. Since its been so long since I've updated, I'll provide a brief recap of the last chapter, I seem to have confused some people with what happened. Sorry about that.**

 **Recap of Chapter 22**

 **Everra wakes up after Lady Olenna agrees for her and Loras to marry. She does not know where she is or remembers what happened. Jon reveals her to her that Lady Catelyn is dead as a result of Stannis attacking Renly's camp during the night and setting it on fire. Andromache is back. Robb won the battle of Oxcross. It is revealed to Everra by Jon that she was attacked by a shadow, like the one that killed Renly, except with Robbs face instead of Stannis. It is revealed in a dream/flashback thing that despite running away from the camp when she first saw the fire, Everra went back to get Jon and Catelyn. There, she is attacked by Robb's shadow and when she stabbed it in the stomach, she got injured instead. Jon rescues her and since he could not find Catelyn, left with an unconscious Everra. The chapter ends with Jon pressing a fiery blade against Everrra's stomach in order to stop it from bleeding due to her injury. The alliance between Everra and House Tyrell has been broken and her and Loras are no longer engaged as far as she knows. . .**

Chapter 23

Robb awoke with the sound of screaming echoing in his ears as his eyes flew open abruptly. His heavy pants filled the otherwise silent tent and he raised a hand to his forehead, sighing loudly.

Nightmares seemed to come with being a King, it seemed.

The sun had just begun to rise, and the camp was still quiet. The soldiers has been up until late into the night, celebrating their victory. Robb felt uncomfortable with their sudden vulnerability, what if the Lannister's attacked whilst they were busy celebrating? He did not voice his concerns aloud however, somehow he knew that they needed this. They had been at war for what seemed like years, but was only a few short months. Their first victory had been weighed down in the wake of his fathers death. Even soldiers needed a chance to celebrate, if only for one night.

Though Robb noted that it had only been his soldiers, the unsullied had merely continued on as they usually did, training. Robb had to admire their obedience and strength, he had never seen such dedicated and loyal fighters before, regardless of whether or not that loyalty had been bought.

Robb slowly brought his hand back down to his side, closing his eyes tightly. He had never felt this exhausted in his life. He had never felt so. . . _drained_ before.

He wondered if he would spend the rest of his life feeling this way.

In the few short weeks of his reign, he had felt more stress and tiredness than he had felt in his whole life. Granted, he was at war but Robb feared deep down that this tiredness would never of away. He dreaded it with all his being. His mother would say that he was being to hard on himself, and that he just needs some rest.

His mother.

They still had not yet heard from either Everra or his mother and Robb had begun to worry. Why had they not yet heard from them? They should have arrived their by now and received an answer from Renly. That is, if they were not dead.

 _No,_ Robb told himself fiercely, _they are not dead._

Renly would not kill them, Robb hoped so anyway.

He reluctantly opened his eyes once more and pulled the warm furs off his body, before getting out of bed.

They weren't dead. His mother could not be dead.

He didn't think he would be able to handle it if she was.

* * *

Everra awoke to the feeling of a heavy body lying right next to her and reluctantly opened her eyes, not quite remembering where she was.

The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was the sight of curly black hair inches away from her face and she drew back slowly, careful not to wake Jon beside her. The memories flooded though her head as she took in her surroundings, noting that Ghost and Andromache were lying near by.

The sun had just begun to rise, causing the sky to fill with colour. The pounding in her stomach had slightly dimmed, but not by much, and Everra gritted her teeth at the feeling. At least the bleeding had stopped.

She propped herself up on her elbow and look around warily. They could not be found by anyone, they needed to keep moving.

She looked down at Jon, her face drawing into a frown as she noticed how peaceful and calm he looked. He looked more like her- their- mother than she cared to admit. They had the same mouth structure, the same coloured eyes. Those damn brown eyes were the exactly the same as their mothers, it almost scared her. Almost.

"Jon," she snapped harshly, reaching over to shake his shoulder, "wake up."

He frowned and his eye's opened lazily and when he realised how close to her he was, he scrambled backwards and was on his feet in seconds, his tiredness forgotten.

"My apologies, my lady," he muttered, " I'll prepare the horse."

"You do that," Everra replied coldly.

Jon looked slightly hurt by her coldness before his features hardened slightly and he nodded at her, stalking off towards the horse.

Everra felt a head rubbing against her shoulder and was surprised to see Andromache up and next to her. She shifted slowly onto her other side, the pain in her stomach erupting, before hesitantly placing her hand on top of her head, petting it slowly.

"Hey you," she whispered softly.

She had missed her. Andromache nuzzled her head in Everra's hand in response, purring.

"Yeah I know," Everra whispered softly, looking over at Jon whom was preoccupied with the horse.

She stiffened slightly at the discomfort she felt near her stomach and glanced down at it, frowning at the gruesome sight. She had no idea how close they were to Robb's camp. That was in the border of the Westerlands. From the looks of it, they had just left the Stormlands. That would require at least another two days of non stop riding to get there. But with her injury and because they only had one horse, they would be delayed by at least another two days. Everra knew of the rather large chance that she may not survive until then. The blade may have sealed her wound for the time being, but that could change soon.

"My lady?" Jon called out, holding onto the horses reigns as he walked forward towards her.

Everra shook her head slightly and nodded, her mind clearing.

She could focus on the probability of her dying later.

* * *

Robb observed the man standing in front of him cooly, shifting in his chair slightly. He had been listening to suggestions and strategies for hours and hours on end.

"We need more allies," Lord Bolton was saying, how firm voice echoing across the room.

The rest of the Lords looked reluctant but Robb could see a few of them nodding their heads in agreement. Robb's eyes glanced down quickly, conflicted before looking back at the older man, whom was looking at him, his eyes like glass. Never revealing anything but merely reflecting Robb's own expression.

"My mother and Lady Everra have both been sent to speak to Renly Baratheon. They departed a few weeks beforehand and we have not yet heard from them. Once, we hear from them, which I suspect in the near future we will, then we will either have 100,000 soldiers on our side or nothing at all. Until then, no further attempts at any other alliance should be taken. We can not risk offending Renly Baratheon or any other of his associates," Robb declared, his voice cutting off Lord Bolton.

The Lords around him nodded in agreement but Lord Bolton's voice soon broke out, "With all due respect your grace we have not yet heard from your mother or Lady Everra, perhaps this is a sign that we should take further action in furthering our relations with another house before the Lannisters take them all."

Robb looked at the man coldly, before replying, "My word is final, Lord Bolton. We wait."

The man nodded reluctantly, his ice blue eyes tightening but Robb looked away from him. The room was silent at the sound of the obvious edge in Robb's voice and as he looked around he found that not many of them were looking him in the eye.

"I think we've had enough discussions for today, my lords," he declared, " This meeting is now over."

The room erupted into conversation at Robb's words and Robb did not even wait for them to say thank him and whatnot before leaving the tent, his head throbbing.

He walked calmly past the guards outside the tent, nodding at those whom bowed and muttered 'your grace'. He needed to _breathe._ His worries about his mother were getting to him and he needed to go somewhere where no one could see him. Just for a few minutes. He could not have his people thinking he was weak.

When he finally managed to make it inside his tent, he almost sunk to the floor in relief. His Lords also seemed to think that his mother and Lady Everra had failed. They couldn't have failed though, could they? Would they not have been informed by now? It had been a few weeks now had it not? They should have sent something by now. Been back by now. Anything.

Robb let his hands run to his head and tighten in his curls as he sank down onto his chair, sighing loudly. Whom else would he ally himself with? If Lady Everra and his mother had succeeded in their tasks, they would have both Renly and the Tyrells behind them. Their chances of beating the Lannister's would triple. If they had failed. .

Robb shuddered slightly and brought his hands to his knees. His blue eyes were conflicted as they looked around him.

Winning a war was harder than he could have ever possibly imagined.

* * *

Everra could feel the suns rays beating down on her head through her cloak and shifted uncomfortably on top of the horse. Jon was walking silently, his hands still clutching the horses reigns. They had not spoken for many hours, making the journey in silence. Andromache and Ghost had each taken to be on either side of the horse, walking next to Everra.

The sun had long since risen up in the sky, beating down on them. The sky was slowing turning into a shade of orange, a sign of the inevitable darkness creeping up on them. They had not stopped for hours on end, except for the occasional stop to refill their water and to give the horse some water.

They continued for another hour or so in silence, the sun finally beginning to set. Both of them had begun to feel just how empty their stomachs were and how their muscles were aching and so they stopped and set camp. The forest was a dark and unforgiving place, and despite their tiredness both Jon and Everra were on constant alert. Rapists and murderers lurked the woods, hiding in the darkness and despite both Andromache and Ghost being near them it would be foolish to believe that would stop them.

Everra propped herself up against the bark of the tree, watching Jon closely. He was gathering logs of wood and stacking them together in a small pile, preparing to make a fire. Everra watched as Jon looked around warily, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrows drawing into a frown.

"We need food," Everra declared loudly and she took amusement in how startled he look at the sound of her voice.

"If we're going to have the energy to keep on moving forward we are going to need something to eat, Jon," Everra said, "You can't find anything here, your going to need to go hunt."

Jon frowned at her, standing up from his crouching position, "I can't leave you alone, unprotected my lady, what if a rapist or a murderer comes-"

"If they come I'll be dead anyway," Everra interrupted, her voice final and her eyes cold.

"If someone comes, I'll scream. You need to hurry, we can not make our fire during the night or else we will alert other people to our presence. The earlier in the daytime we light the fire, the less likely it will attract anyones attention. Understood?" She demanded.

Jon nodded and looked down, his brown eyes still looking conflicted.

"Go," Everra snapped.

Jon reached for his sword hesitantly, looking back at her one last time before disappearing behind the trees, leaving Everra with only Andromache and Ghost for company.

She sighed loudly, her voice echoing across the inclosed space.

"You've been doing well," a voice said from in front of her.

Everra froze from where she was sitting at the sound of the voice and her hands curled into fists as she looked up at the old woman, her green eyes tightening with anger.

She didn't respond and merely stared at the old woman, her frosty glare speaking for itself.

The woman shifted on her feet uncomfortably, and cleared her throat before rasping out, "There have been changes-"

"Changes?" Everra snapped loudly, "I almost got killed. That was not supposed to happen. I got attacked by one of those shadows that Stannis sent after Renly, except this one had Robb's face. Please explain that to me-"

"A greater power than I could have foreseen is trying to thwart our plans, my lady," the older woman said defensively, "I am here to discuss with you those changes."

Everra looked down for a brief moment, collecting herself, before looking back up, "Go on."

The older woman took a few hesitant steps forward towards Everra before saying, "The red witch's powers are more. . . powerful than I thought they were-"

"Melissandrei did this to me?" Everra asked harshly.

The old woman looked reluctant before she spoke, "I'm not quite sure, I'm afraid my lady. Those shadows that she creates take the form of the people. The victims of those shadows see it take the form of the person whom wants them dead the most. The shadow which attacked you took the form of the Young wolf which can only imply that-"

"He wants me dead," Everra finished, her voice slightly tainted with bitterness.

The old woman opened her dry mouth slightly, before closing it. She had no reply to that.

"You figured out my riddle, however," The older woman said, her voice slightly proud.

Everra glanced back at the woman, her green eyes looking slightly annoyed, "Yes the only obvious conclusion could have been Lord Baelish. . ."

Her voice drifted off as something dawned on her, her eyes widening. The older woman frowned and asked, "My lady?"

"Lord Baelish?" Everra asked, "Was he there at the camp? I did not see him but if he saw Catelyn that means that she will want to set Jaime free and I can no let that happen. . ."

"Yes, that is a problem," The older woman agreed sympathetically.

Everra frowned as the reminder dawned on her, " But Catelyn's dead, how could she possibly. . ."

The older woman raised an eyebrow at her in response.

When Jon returns the woman has long left Everra to her own thoughts. Everra was slightly conflicted. She had no idea what she felt. Surprise? Shock, relief, anger. . . Her feelings towards the Stark woman were never anything more than dislike and bitterness and that did not change despite the recent developments in whether or not she was still breathing air.

Jon returns with two rabbits having from his hands and Everra watches as he skins them and lights a small fire, propping them on sticks above the fire.

"Jon," she starts, breaking the silence, "Are you absolutely sure that Lady Catelyn is dead?"

Jon looked at her weirdly, his brown eyes tainted with suspicion as he replied, "Yes I'm sure."

Everra pressed on however, for the first time oblivious to another's suspicion of her actions, "Are you absolutely positive-"

"I am sure that Lady Catelyn is dead," Jon interrupted coldly, his voice firm and filled with annoyance.

Everra looked at him, surprised at his tone. Her death was affecting him more than he cared to let on.

"You cared about her," she observed, her eyes narrowing as she watched him stiffen at her observation, "You always wanted her approval didn't you?"

Jon stiffened even more and diverted his eyes from hers, "Lady Catelyn was a. . . generous woman whom loved her children. She did not deserve to die as she did."

Everra almost snorted at his answer and did not stop her onslaught of observations, "Why are you pretending that she did not despise you with every fibre of her being?"

Jon's jaw locked tightly as his eyes locked with hers and he snapped, "Because, Lady Everra, I did not know my birth mother at all and I probably never will. Lady Catelyn was the closest thing to a mother I've ever had, regardless of her personal feeling towards me, that is important. It does not matter whether or not she loved or even liked me, she gave me my brothers and my sisters. Thats all I could ever really want for a family."

 _Our mother loved you._ Everra can almost feel the words slip onto her tongue and the sudden urge she feels to reassure him that he did have a mother who loved him was unfamiliar and frightening. The words almost fell out of her mouth but she stopped herself and simply chose to look at him.

They did not speak for the rest of the night.

* * *

It is two days after his slight break down when Robb wakes up to the sounds of shouting from across the camp. Before he realises, he is out of bed and slipping a tunic over his head and slipping on his boots, running outside his tent. The soldiers part when they see him walking quickly past them as his heart leaps in his throat. They heard news of Renly Baratheon's death but nothing of his mother and Lady Everra and the hope he feels may be naive but it is unstoppable.

He stops in his tracks at the sight of his mother standing a few feet away from him, infant of he horse and next to a large blonde haired woman covered in armour. His heart leaps in his chest as his eyes connect with hers and he feels very tempted to run to her like a little boy before calming himself down and walking. He hugs her tightly when he reaches her, showing weakness be damned but it is only the realisation that Everra and Jon are nowhere to be seen that finally pulls him away.

It's then he touches the small scratch under his mothers eye, the dark grey that had covered her otherwise pale skin. _Ash,_ he realises and lifts a finger to brush against the side of her cheek, frowning at the dirt that suddenly appeared on his fingers. He feels a presence near them and turns around slightly to see Ser Daavos looking around, his eyes narrowing as he also comes to the realisation that Everra is nowhere in sight.

"Mother?" Robb asks, his voice concerned, "What happened? Where are Jon and Everra-"

"I don't know," she replied, her blue eyes worried, "Stannis attacked the camp just as Renly was killed. There was fire and smoke everywhere, it was hectic, you could barely move let alone go and search for anyone. Lady Brienne and I managed to escape. We looked for Lady Everra and Jon but we could not find them."

Robb's heart suddenly dropped, his eyes narrowing slightly at his mother.

"Couldn't find them?" A cold voice asks from behind them, "My lady, what did you mean by you could not find them?"

Robb can see his mother frown at the mans tone before she responds, "If we had stayed we would have been killed, Ser-"

"Then you should have died looking for her," Daavos snaps loudly.

"That is my mother, Ser Daavos, I understand if you are upset but you will hold your tongue," Robb snaps at him, his blue eyes flashing fiercely, clashing against the furious grey.

Ser Daavos shakes his head at the both of them and stalks away from them, both disgust and anger clear on his face.

Robb's stomach tightened in his stomach as the sudden image of Jon and Everra being burned alive slowly engrained itself into his mind.

"Robb?" his mother asks gently.

Robb looks at her, slightly startled and says, "Go rest mother, we will talk later."

The only thing keeping Everra's soldiers from being here was that Everra wanted them to be here. To fight for him. If she was dead, Robb was almost absolutely positive that they would turn to Daavos for guidance next. If the look he had shot them earlier said anything, Robb knew that Daavos would stab him in the back the first chance he got. A man in love was dangerous, especially when enraged.

He could not lose her men. If he wanted any chance of winning.

Guilt suddenly flooded through him as he realised that Jon was dead too.

"Jon?" he calls after his mother, whom had begun to walk away.

Catelyn pauses in her tracks and turns to face him, her face looking grievous as she shakes her head in confirmation of the horrible truth.

 _Please be alive_ , Robb thinks, _please please please._

* * *

They had been travelling for almost a week when Everra first begins to feel the numbness creeping in. Her stomach has been throbbing constantly and so when the pain dulls slightly she is relieved but when she can not feel it all is when she knows that she may die soon. She had not told Jon yet. With no sight of Robb's camp and nothing else to do but keep moving forward Everra did not quite know what to say.

They had not talked much since their small argument, merely talking when they absolutely had to. She preferred that to talking, she was already forming an. . . attachment to him and she knew that attachments were dangerous. She did not want nor need one. Yet he looked so much like her mother that sometimes she could not help it.

The day the numbness comes is also the first day they have an interaction with others besides themselves.

They had just set camp, Everra propping herself up against the bark of the tree when she suddenly feels the cool metal of a blade pressed tightly against her throat. Before the man can even speak, Jon had expertly thrown a knife directly at his face, watching calmly as the blood trickled down and dripped on Everra's head. The sword dropped in her lap as the man fell beside her, dead.

"You've been taught well," she commented, feeling almost proud.

Jon's lips turn up slightly as he looks at her, "Well I learned from the best."

Everra's lips quirk up slightly at his response and she watches as Andromache settles herself near Jon, her tail wagging.

"She likes you," She says.

Jon looks up at her her startled, "Is that a bad thing, my lady?"

"No," Everra replies cooly, "its merely unusual. She thinks that other people besides me are food."

Jon smiles slightly and gently pats Andromache's head and he shrugs in response.

Everra fears that she's attached to him already.

When they finally arrive at the camp, it is nightfall and everyone has slowly begun to fall asleep. When Jon firsts see's the sight of the camps straight ahead, he perks up, grabbing the attention of both Andromache and Ghost as he exclaims, "My lady, we are almost there."

Everra did not answer, she had fallen asleep and had slouched over onto of the horse. Jon reached up to gently touch her shoulder as he said, "My lady, please wake up, we are almost there."

Her green eyes look at him grouchily for a moment, before they snap back into their usual aloofness.

"Who goes there?" A voice yells and Everra can hear the sound of swords being unsheathed.

"Jon Snow and Lady Everra Legrath, Warden of the Bloodlands and ally to the King the North," Jon declares.

Everra can barely keep her eyes open, but manages to hear the shouts of recognition and could see the light from the torches heading towards them.

"My lady!" A familiar voice yells loudly, running towards them.

Everra can feel Jon's arms around her waist, pulling her down gently and holding her arms as she stumbles on her feet. She can barely make out Daavos's face and feels a fur being wrapped around her shoulder and she suddenly feels herself being supported by Daavos instead of Jon.

"Get Jon something to eat, drink and bathe in," she commands to a soldier that is surrounding them and she watches as Jon is escorted away from them, Ghost right at his heels.

She barely remembers the walk back to her tent and when she is finally hurried inside, Daavos hugs her tightly to his chest and she can practically feel his relief flooding through her.

Hesitantly, Everra lifts up her arms and awkwardly manages to return the gesture, allowing herself to be comforted by him just this once.

"We thought you were dead," he whispered, "I thought you were dead. Lady Catelyn said-"

Everra pulls back away from him, the moment of intimacy gone.

"Catelyn is alive?" she questioned.

Daavos frowned at her and quickly poured her a glass of water, passing it to her. She grabbed it from his hands greedily and gulped it all quickly.

"Yes," Daavos replied.

Everra placed the cup down on the table nearby and said, "We thought she was dead. I wasn't sure, the old woman said she was alive but. . ." Her voice drifted off slightly.

"The old woman?" Daavos questioned, "Why was she there?"

Everra hesitated for a moment, her eyes meeting his before saying, "Because something changed Daavos. Events changed. A shadow like the one that killed Renly Baratheon was sent after me too."

Her voice had delved into a whisper by then, her eyes glancing at the entrance of the tent warily. Daavos's eyes had widened slightly and he was about to speak before she cut him off.

"Except Daavos, the shadow sent after me had Robb's face on it."

"What?" Daavos exclaimed loudly, his voice rising with fury. "That pathetic son a-"

"Quiet Daavos," Everra snapped, " the old woman said that the victims of the shadow see it in the form of the person whom wants them dead the most. Accept, the only thing to this is, is that Robb has no reason to want me dead. Heck, he is probably almost in love with me anyway, or is getting there for that matter. He would not want me-"

Her voice drifts off at the sight of Robb at the entrance of her tent, looking at her, his eyes full of poorly disguised relief.

"Your grace," she says, her voice cool, "I was just about to send word to you about my arrival but I wished to properly prepare myself first. It is a pleasure to see you again."

Daavos's eyes dart between the two of them and he feels himself grow wary as Robb looks at him and asks politely, "Ser Daavos, if you would not mind leaving me and Lady Everra alone for a moment please."

Daavos looks at Everra for confirmation before he goes and when she nods back, he reluctantly leaves. His eyes connecting with Robb's as he walks out.

"My lady," Robb starts, " it is. . it is a relief to see that you are alive and well. We all thought you had perished in the fire."

Everra nodded at Robb and heard the words leave her lips, "Thank you for your kind wishes you grace, they are most appreciated."

There was an undeniable tensions between them. A newfound friction as they both stared intensely at each other. It was not sexual or romantic tensions, but one of great mistrust, confusion and well . . . something they did not even know.

Robb can still feel the relief flooding through him as he looks at her. He cares for her. Maybe more than he should, but he does. He admires her strength, her authority, her advice. Though he does pity her as well.

"What happened to you?" he finds himself asking. He frowns at the blank expression on her face, almost as if she had not heard the question he had just asked. Her hand had risen to her stomach and it is only now that Robb notices the large tear near her stomach, at the sight of dried blood makes his stomach lurch.

"Lady Everra?" he asks warily.

Robb can hear her gulp from here and so he slowly walks towards her, his face drawing into a frown.

"I'm fine," she mutters determinedly, her eyes looking slightly wild.

"I am fine, your grace."

She stumbles slightly as she says it and Robb can feel his heart begin to pound in his chest as he notices her eyes beginning to look dazed. When her eyes turn to the back of her head and her body begins to fall to the ground, Robb lurches forward and manages to catch her in his lap. He looks down at her face, how her usual pink lips were white and chipped and her usual coloured skin now pale and sickly. The fear he feels now is immense and the thought that she may die in his arms shakes him.

"Help!" he yells as loudly as he can, holding onto her unconscious form tightly, "Help!"

Weakness be damned.

 **A/N And we are out! Hope you guys liked it guys. There was a lot of character drama this chapter, I hope you guys all liked it. Also, there are some changes from the book and show, with the whole shadow thing, but it is an important part to this story. Also, I hope you guys liked the fact that Catelyn is not really dead. Usually I'm not a big fan of the whole oh she's dead but then she's not thing but I made an exception this time around. I still need Catelyn for this story, so.. . . I hope you guys are ok with that. Also, your response to last chapter was AMAZING GUYS! Marvelmyra, I know that it is not February yet, and that only because I took a break today was I able to write /upload this chapter but I wish you a Happy early birthday. I was also born in February too so I wish you all the best on your happy day. I don't know when I'll update next, I still have exams and stuff but hopefully it will be pretty soon. Thanks again guys. Remember to tell what you think and if you have any complaints, just tell me. Love you all. THANKS SO MUCH! :)**


	26. Chapter 24: Green Eyes

**Disclaimer, I own nothing! I own nothing except the original characters. Warning, this story is not edited, please try to ignore all grammatical errors.**

Chapter 24

"Her wound seems to be infected," the maester was saying, looking down at the sleeping woman, concern in his eyes. "The blade may have closed the wound but the infection had already begun by then. The blade merely stopped the blood I'm afraid, your grace, my lady," he finished, nodding in their directions.

Robb could see Ser Daavos frowning out of the corner of his eye, the older mans face pale with fear.

"When will she wake?" Robb found himself asking, he could feel his mother looking at her suspiciously and swallowed loudly. _If she wakes up._

The Maester seemed to not know what to say, his face looking rather lost as everyone in the room was staring at him intensely. His mother, himself, Ser Daavos and Jon included.

"If she makes it through the night your grace, she will have a good chance of awakening soon after. If not. . ."

Silence. The tent grew tight at what the Maester implied, and if it was at all possible, Daavos grew even paler at his words.

"Your grace, beg my pardon, but if you do not mind me asking how she was wounded? Perhaps if we know the source of injury, we may be better prepared," The Maester asked hesitantly.

Robb tried to ignore the dark look Daavos sent a hesitant looking Jon, and felt sick at the sudden realisation that he in fact did not know what had happened to Everra.

"Jon?" Robb asked, turning to look at his brother.

Jon's dark brown eyes flickered up to look into his blue ones and Robb noticed how they had flickered suspiciously at him, before going blank.

"I'm not sure," he answered finally, shifting on his feet, "It was dark and as Lady Catelyn recounted to us all earlier, hectic and chaotic. I arrived just as the figure had run off and noticed that Lady Everra had been stabbed."

Robb looked at Daavos carefully, noticing his slightly thankful expression and how his body had relaxed slightly at his brothers words. Robb resisted the urge to frown at him, somehow knowing deep in his gut that he was lying. There was some truth to his words and Robb did not suspect him of doing it himself, but there was _something_ that he had changed. Robb looked towards his mother and did not see any sign of her noticing Jon's untruthfulness. Finally, Robb nodded, his eyes flickering downwards and then turned to stare at the Maester in front of him.

"Very well," he said, his voice taking on an authoritative tone, "Do what you must to save Lady Everra. Tell me of any changes in her wellbeing."

The Maester nodded and Robb turned to glance at everyone else, feeling his suspicion build inside of him. Robb nodded at them and then turned away, leaving the tent as fast as he could.

* * *

Daavos looked down at Everra, his eyes lingering on he face from where he sat on the chair next to her. He had not left her side since it had happened, having food be brought to him and merely left the tent to relieve himself.

How had he let this happen? How?

Daavos sighed loudly and gripped onto her hand tighter, watching her chest rise and fall slowly. He was terrified, more than anything, that it would stop moving and that she would. . . He couldn't bring himself to say the word, let alone think it. He couldn't even think of a world where she was no longer there. She was, quite literally, his _life._ His loyalty, his body, his mind, his words. . . they all belonged to her. Regardless of whether or not she felt the same way for him, he knew somehow, despite how she acted, that she cared for him in her own way. That was enough for him. Even if it was all she would -could- offer him. He saw her for who she really was, the strongest and most intelligent person he had ever known. Someone who had risen against the odds placed against her and had fought with every part of her to overcome them.

 _He_ had tried to take her away and ruin her even after she had tried to help _him._ He wouldn't try to do anything to the young boy but by the gods, if she stopped breathing _he_ would regret the day _he_ was born.

It was only then that Daavos became aware of another presence in the room and he stiffened, letting go of her hand and reaching for his sword.

"There is no need for that Daavos, we are all friends here," Lord Edwin said calmly, walking closer to him.

Daavos's eyes narrowed at the Lord whom was gazing at Everra calmly and felt this urge to shield her from his eyes, from anyones eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not bothering to try and be polite.

He had not seen the Lord much since they had joined Robb Stark, he was occasionally brought by Everra to sit on Robb's war councils but other than that, the Lord had somewhat disappeared. Daavos had seen him talking to his small group of soldiers, whom had surprisingly managed to survive both of the battles they had fought in. He remembered what Everra had said about him, about how his allegiance to her had already been proven years ago and so he slightly relaxed.

"I heard about her," Lord Edwin said, "How is she?"

Daavos eyed the man suspiciously before saying, "She'll be fine."

 _She had to be._

Daavos turned around and sat once more, looking at her, his eyes filled with an intense emotion.

"You remind me of myself," he heard Lord Edwin say.

His eyes didn't leave her face even as he replied, "How so? If I may ask, my lord?"

"We both fell in fell with people whom we were not supposed to. We would have died to protect them even exchange our lives for theirs if we could have."

Daavos turned to look at man, albeit reluctantly, and noticed how his voice had become bitter at the end of his sentence. He suddenly felt rather sick as he realised that he could turn into him. An unmarried, bitter man whom would spend the rest of his life mourning a love that could never be his.

But when he his eyes flickered from the man and back to Everra's unconscious form, he could not bring himself to care.

* * *

Jon sat down on his bed sighing, running a hand through his hair. The tent that he usually shared with some other of the unsullied was empty and for once, he was thankful for it. His thoughts plagued him and there was this flutter in his stomach that never went away. Jon had never felt this before, this feeling of being torn. He knew his brother, he loved his brother, his brother was his best friend, but he had changed. War had changed him, made him harder, stronger, less of the boy whom he had once played with in the snow in Winterfell. But had he changed so much that he would want to kill someone whom was his ally? No. Jon knew that was true. Robb would never do that, he knew that. The proof was there however, Jon had seen his brothers face on that shadow, no matter how dark and haunting it may have been. Jon would recognise his face anywhere.

But how? Why?

The words were ingrained in his mind and Jon feared he would never have the answers. Renly was killed by a shadow, he knew this. He had seen it, even if Lady Everra had not.

Jon froze where he sat, his eyes widening slightly. _No,_ he thought, _how was that possible?_

Lady Everra had not seen Renly being stabbed, she had not been there, so how had she known? _Perhaps he had told her_ , he said to himself, trying to ease the sudden suspicion, before he had told her about Robb.

Jon stood up from where he sat and exited the tent, his hands itching to get on a sword. He needed to think, heck, he needed to _breathe._ He did that best with a sword in his hand.

He wondered what that said about him?

He had changed too. War had changed him, his fathers death had changed him.

The sight of a small blond haired girl far from him made his thoughts run to a stop and a sudden happiness rise in his chest. He had missed Anna in his time away, she had grown on him. With her kindness and her words, she had helped him through his mourning.

Jon ignored the voice deep inside him that said he liked her a little bit to much before changing his direction towards her and not the weapons.

He frowned as he saw her enter a tent, presumably the one she shared with some other healers before walking faster, not wanting to lose her.

When he reached the outside of the tent, he stopped abruptly, his heart pounding in his ears, before hesitantly opening the entrance and stepping in. Her back was to him and she was humming quietly and the sound made Jon smile because it had been so long since he had heard anyone sound slightly cheerful.

"Anna?" he asked, and regretted saying anything because at the sound of his voice she immediately stopped humming and whirled around, bring a hand to her chest in shock.

"Jon?" she asked, her eyes widening with shock.

Jon blushed at her reaction and began to fiddle with his thumbs, regretting his actions, "Sorry, I just wanted- to uh-"

He was cut off by the feeling of her small body barrelling into his, making him take a few steps backwards by the force of her. Her arms had winded around his neck as she hugged him tightly and despite his shock he managed to wrap his arms around her waist, placing his face by her neck.

"I'm so glad that you are alive," he heard her whisper "They said that you were dead and-"

"Shh, it okay," he said cutting her off.

The stood there for a long time, relishing in the fact that they were together once again.

When they pulled away, Jon did so with great reluctance and looked down at her, smiling widely.

Something had changed. Jon noticed it the moment he had pulled away from her, there was something else he was feeling. A warmness that he had never felt before, a. . . happiness that no one else had ever made him feel. His eyes flickered down to her lips and then back up to her eyes and he was slightly taken aback by the nervousness in her eyes, and the fear.

He began to lean forward, his eyes focused on her lips and just as they were about to touch, he felt someone enter the tent behind them. They sprung away from the other immediately, their cheeks automatically flushing. Jon looked at Anna and was surprised that her eyes had widened once more, with embarrassment, he frowned and was about to speak to her before she cast him a look and spluttered out, "My lady!"

Jon whirled around, taken aback by the sight of Catelyn Stark looking at him fiercely.

"Go now," the cold woman said to Anna, " I would like to speak with Jon alone for a moment."

Anna looked very tempted to defend herself, her cheeks still a bright red before nodding and leaving the tent in a hurry, but not before casting Jon one last look.

Jon turned his attention towards the woman in front of him and was slightly surprised- though he dared not show it- at the look in her eyes as she stared back at him. For once, her pale blue eyes were not filled with distaste or hatred as she looked at him, they were still hostile and cold, but they were softer somehow, more considerate.

"I did not have the chance to say this before, my lady, but I am glad that you are well," Jon said stiffly.

He was though, he may have never been close to her but he did care for her. What he said to Lady Everra was true, she gave him his siblings, which was more than he could have ever asked for.

She nodded at him and they stood there in uncomfortable silence for a while and just as Jon was about to ask why she had wanted to speak with him, her cold voice had cut him off.

"I'm. . . glad, that your not dead," is all she offered him, her blue eyes piercing into his brown ones.

Jon could not find the words to reply and merely nodded his head, looking down at the ground.

She was gone before he could even begin to muster a reply.

* * *

Robb was staring at the empty seat near him, and felt the sudden pang of worry fill his heart before turning his attention back towards the men entering the room, taking their seats. Once they were all settled, Robb stood from his chair, gathering all of their attention.

"My lords," he started, "as you have all heard by now, my mother and Lady Everra's trip to secure an alliance with Renly Baratheon has failed, as Renly Baratheon is now dead. During an attack led by Stannis, Lady Everra, a most trusted ally in our fight to win the norths independence, was severely injured and may soon pass on because of her injuries." His eyes flickered towards the empty seat once more, before he pushed on, refusing to let his never-ending worry show.

"Lord Bolton," he said, directing his gaze towards the man, "You were right, since our attempt at an alliance with Renly has failed, we need another house at our side during this war. Now if anyone has any suggestions, speak now."

The room was silent as Robb sat back down in his chair, watching as they all looked around the room expectantly, waiting for someone to speak.

"Your grace," he said quietly, "if I may, there is an urgent matter which I think needs to be discussed. It is of concern to all of us in the room."

Robb frowned at the man before nodding, "Tell us of the matter you wish to speak about, Lord Bolton."

The man nodded and stood, the room growing quiet, "Thank you, your grace. Now as we all know, Lady Everra Legrath has shown us and his grace, nothing but loyalty and has helped us in more ways than we could have ever expected. Her wellbeing is something that I believe we all care for very much, and we wish that she can return to us sooner rather than later," he passed for a moment, his eyes flickering around the room. Robb glanced round as well, and noticed the uneasy looks the lords were sending each other. There was a frown on Robb's face, he had no idea what Lord Bolton was getting at.

"Continue," he commanded, his voice growing sharp.

"But I fear that despite Lady Everra's loyalty for our King, that her Lords, generals and army do not share that loyalty. Her army are unsullied, their allegiance is to their owner, the one who bought them, not the one their owners are fighting for. I fear that if Lady Everra dies, so does their allegiance to us. We all saw Ser Daavos's reaction to the possibility of her being dead, if she dies, they leave. Your grace," he said turning to look at him, "I am not suggesting that Lady Everra is not loyal to you, I am merely stating that the rest of her men aren't."

Robb did not reply and through his concern he knew that Lord Bolton was right. he had noticed it too, how angry Ser Daavos had been with his mother and him. Robb knew that he was only their because Everra had told him to be, same with the rest of her army. What he didn't know, was what Lord Bolton suggested they do about it.

"While you may raise a valid point, Lord Bolton, what do you suggest we do?" He asked, making sure to keep his voice neutral.

"We create an alliance that can not be broken even by death. The bloodlands are not a part of the north, you can not command their armies and can not call on them, however, if you have it in writing that when need be, you can rely on House Legrath, then they will come to your aid. At the current moment, we only hold their allegiance by their leader. If we create a pact that says that the north will help the bloodlands when need be and the bloodlands help the north when need be, their will be no reason for us to worry. The alliance, will be beneficial for both sides, your grace. Forgive me for saying so, but we can not afford to lose Lady Everra's armies to the Lannister's or anyone else for that matter."

* * *

Daavos looked at Jon hesitantly dragging his eyes away from Everra's body. She was still alive, thank the gods. She had made it through the night, her fever had broken, and sweat was still trickling down her face, her usual pink coloured lips had grown pale and chapped but she was still _alive._ She was still _there._

He had been meaning to say this to Jon since they had returned and had sent for him to say that very thing, but once he entered the words had escaped him.

"You called for me?" Jon asked, tearing his eyes away from Everra. Daavos could see the relief enter the boy's brown eyes and somehow the lost words made their way out of his mouth.

"Thank you," Daavos said and at the boy's frown he added, "For taking care of her when I could not. She would be dead if it was not for you, I won't forget it."

Jon nodded, his eyes drifting back towards the woman in question.

"Neither will she," Daavos answered, looking at Jon carefully.

"What will she do?" Jon asked, "What will you do? About-"

"Quiet," Daavos snapped, peering behind him. He rose from his seat, his eyes urging Jon to turn around and keep his mouth shut.

"Your grace," Daavos acknowledged.

Jon paled at the sight of his brother entering the tent, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Your grace," he stuttered out, he felt as though he was a child, being caught doing something wrong.

Robb nodded at him, something very akin to hurt flashing in his eyes for a brief second before it disappeared.

"Jon," he acknowledged.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Daavos spoke, "Your grace, is there something either Jon or I may be able to help you with?"

Robb seemed to snap out of whatever phase he had entered and directed his gaze towards Daavos, "Yes, indeed there is. Ser Daavos I know that this may be a difficult time for us all but you are needed at the council to go over some important issues." At the sight of Daavos beginning to protest he added, "Immediately."

Daavos nodded, though visibly unhappily and made his way out of the tent, his shoulder almost brushing against Robb's. When he left, Robb turned to face Jon, the hurt in his eyes now evident.

"I'm 'your grace' now, huh?" He asked his voice slightly bitter.

Jon shifted on his feet uncomfortably and was taken aback at the look of betrayal in Robb's eyes, though it disappeared quickly.

"You are a king now Robb-"

"Just go, "Robb cut him off, the cold, reserved look in his eyes returning, _"Please."_

Jon nodded hesitantly, his brown eyes conflicted, "Robb-"

"Go," he commanded.

Robb shifted on his feet uncomfortably, waiting until Jon left the tent and when he eventually did, he let out a loud sigh of relief. His gaze then turned to Everra, and his heart tightened at how unlike herself she looked. How small and fragile she looked, so different from how she usually was.

Before Robb could even comprehend what he was doing, he was sitting down on the chair next to her bedside. He didn't do anything, he didn't say anything for the longest of times and merely sat there, relishing in the fact that she was still breathing.

"I don't want you to die," he confessed quietly. The relief he felt by saying the words aloud seemed to lift this horrible weight off his chest.

"I uh-" his heart was pounding in his chest and held one of her soft hands in his, "I have no idea what I'm doing."

He let out another sigh, his hand tightening his grip on hers, "I trust you. More than I trust anyone, surprisingly enough."

Robb's lips curled bitterly as he spoke, "I don't even know what I'm trying to say." He laughed, though it was without humour.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I need you here. Alive. I don't want you to die. I need you with me. Everra, you see me, just as I know that I see you for what you really are. Lost, broken, just like me. Yet your the strongest person I've ever known. I understand your demons just as you understand mine. I'm not in love with you . . . I _can't_ be in love with you, but I do care for you. So if, wherever you are, you can hear me, please come back. Please."

Green eyes fluttering open was his only response.

 **A/N And we are out! Thanks guys, I hope you liked this chapter. Exams are over now, so I should be able to update like usual. Thanks for your response to last chapter guys! You guys are so awesome! Tell me your thoughts on this chapter guys. Robb/Everra? Daavos/Everra? Jon/Anna and Jon/Catelyn? Do you guys think it flowed nicely? Tell me your thoughts!**


	27. Chapter 25: Love is Weakness

**Disclaimer! I own nothing. This story is not edited, please try to ignore all grammatical errors. Thank you.**

 **A/N THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE RESPONSE TO LAST CHAPTER! It means so much to me. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thanks again. Remember to tell me your thoughts ! :) Until next time.**

Chapter 25

"I'm fine Daavos," Everra said from where she sat upright on her bed, looking at the grey eyed man sitting on the chair by her bedside, "It has been two weeks, the Maester said I would be fine by now Daavos."

Daavos frowned at her words, running a hand across the stubble on his chin. He still wanted her to wait a few more days, just to be sure.

"Besides, we have urgent matters that need to be handled," Everra added, watching as Daavos face twisted into a scowl.

"I suppose you are still not in favour of the alliance?" She asked him.

"I still think it is unwise," Daavos admitted, looking her in the eye, "It does not benefit us-"

"How so?" Everra challenged, shifting her body so that it was facing him, "The alliance offers my house and my lands a permanent and powerful ally for years to come. Yes, the bloodlands may begin to recognise Robb as their King, but I am still its leader."

At the displeased expression on Daavos's face, she added, "All I have to do is sign a piece of paper, I could have had to marry one of them."

"No, they'll just force you to marry another man anyway," Daavos added sarcastically.

Everra looked at him coldly, raising an eyebrow at him, "I will have to marry someday, Daavos, if I am to have an heir. Besides, I volunteered to marry Loras Tyrell, though that obviously did not end as expected."

Daavos snorted at this, looking slightly amused.

"If it had not been for your behaviour, there would not be this issue in the first place," she reminded him. Daavos's face instantly soured at her words, his face looking as though it had swallowed something bitter.

When she had first awoken, she had been bombarded by Daavos, Maesters, Youngbird, Jon, Anna, Lord Edwin, even Lady Catelyn and Roose Bolton had come to see her. She had only seen Robb once, when she had first woken.

 _Robb._

The suspicion she felt whenever one spoke of him or mentioned him had not fully gone away, though the words he had spoken continued to ring in her ear.

" _I don't want you to die."_

" _I need you."_

She had indeed been right, the Stark did indeed feel something for her and yet she did not feel triumphant or pleased as she thought she would. Granted, controlling him would be easier for her in the long run, but somehow she could not bring herself to mention what he had said to Daavos. They had only spoken of it once, before Jon had interrupted them, bringing them news of the alliance pact they intended to have her sign.

Jon had become something different for her. . . something that she could not simply use anymore. She had never had a brother before, never knew what it felt like. Though there was an inevitable truth, he was her brother, though illegitimate, if she did die, he would be her heir. She would not leave her home in the hands of Lord Edwin or Lord Yullian.

Now, the only matter was telling him- and Robb.

"My lady?" Daavos was asking, a frown on his face.

"Yes?" Everra said, bringing her attention back towards him.

"What are you going to do?" He asked hesitantly, watching her closely.

Everra knew what he meant and stiffened, watching him closely as well.

"He didn't want me dead Daavos," she said softly but firmly, watching his eyes tighten with frustration.

"There was a shadow that tried to kill you, with his face on it!" Daavos hissed at her, "He's going to get you killed. This alliance will be the death of you-"

"Then do your job and protect me," She cut him off, staring at him intensely.

Daavos nodded, defeated and stood, bowing, "Sleep well, my lady," then stalked out.

Everra sighed softly, looking over at Andromache who was lying near the foot of the bed.

"I know what I'm doing," she said, her eyebrows drawing into a frown, "I've been making my own decisions since I was seven."

Somehow, that didn't ease her nerves.

* * *

"A feast?" Robb repeated, looking at Roose Bolton, his eyes leaving the man in front of him to quickly glance across the room, watching how the other Lords either shifted uncomfortably in their seats, or looked at him straight in the eyes.

"We're fighting a war," Robb said coldly, "Not playing a game."

Roose Boltons jaw tightened at his words but before he could say anything a voice broke out from near them, "Your grace, if I may?"

Robb turned around, surprised at the familiar voice. He rose from his seat, his mouth opening slightly as he looked at her.

"Lady Everra," he said, his voice slightly wavering.

He could see the other Lords rise out of the corners of his eyes and he could feel a lump form in his throat at the sight of her. She looked better, healthier, like she usually did. Not like that pale, fragile version of herself that had haunted his thoughts.

The other Lords seems to echo his words, bowing their heads in respect.

"Thank you," she said in their direction, though her cool gaze did not leave his.

Her eyes, however, then flickered in Roose Bolton's direction and though she did not show it, Robb could practically feel her stiffen at the sight of the man.

"Lord Bolton," she said, taking a step forward.

"Lady Everra," he acknowledged, taking a step forward as well, grabbing her hand and placed a quick kiss on it, "Words can not describe how. . . _delighted_ I am that you are well and with us once more."

She merely nodded in response, not even attempting to make an effort at looking flattered.

"Your grace," she then said, her firm voice silencing the room, "I understand that you have a pact for me to sign."

Robb could feel himself nod before clearing his throat, "Yes, as a matter of fact, my lady, there is. Lord Bolton was discussing us throwing a small feast or celebration in light of this fact."

Robb's eyes drifted towards Lord Bolton watching him closely.

"Though Lord Bolton's intentions are good, I'm sure, perhaps throwing a feast may not be the wisest idea. It would be a waste on all of our resources and make us vulnerable to an attack. The Lannister's are not as far as we make them out to be. Now, in light of recent events, Stannis is now also an immense threat."

Robb felt slightly triumphant at her words, but was careful not to show it.

"However, perhaps we should have some sort of celebration or ceremony," she added, her eyes flickering to look at Lord Bolton.

"Wonderful idea, my lady," Lord Bolton said.

"It is up to his grace to decide."

"What?" Daavos asked, gaping at her.

Him, Youngbird and Lord Edwin were sitting around the table, with Everra at the head.

"There will be a small celebration held in two days time to honour our recent formal alliance with his grace," Everra repeated, looking at Daavos warningly.

"Would that be the wisest idea my lady?" Youngbird asked, looking at her curiously.

Everra's eyes moved to look at him and stated, "His grace and the rest of the Lords seemed to wish for it."

There was a moment of silence, before a dark look crossed Everra's eyes and she clasped her hands together, her eyes flickering across the faces of the three men across or beside her.

"That, however, is not why I summoned you all here," she announced, watching as they all frowned at her.

"The both of you have been lied too," she said, her eyes glancing between Lord Edwin and Youngbird, "About my attacker. It was not a man that attacked me but a shadow that took a form of a man. A man whom we all know. The King."

Everra watched their eyes widen with alarm, ignoring Daavos's attempt to make eye contact with her, no doubt shocked at her actions.

"As far as it seems, the king made an attempt on my life, how so and how it was possible I do not know and though it may seem as though he did try to kill me, I have reasons to believe that he has been framed. However, this. . . ceremony will be the ultimate test."

Everra watched them all glance at each other suspiciously, wondering what she meant.

"All of you have proven your loyalty to me throughout one scenario or another, have passed the test that I have set up for you, now, I am providing the King with the chance to do the same. The celebration will be in public, which may be the perfect time for an assassin or an attempt on my life to take place. The more people who know that no one is invincible the better. Fear is the ultimate power and with the death of the woman who fooled the great Tywin Lannister fear by your hands. . . you will be considered invincible. Especially if your a king."

"My lady," Lord Edwin started, "If someone does indeed make an attempt on your life and you survive, what will you do?"

"Kill them all," she replied coldly.

"The King," Youngbird started, "does not seem the type to want to kill an ally my lady. Let alone try to have them assassinated at the union of their houses."

"Never underestimate those around you, Youngbird, you'll end up being killed if you do."

"This is a mistake!" Daavos broke out when the other two males left the room, looking at her desperately. "You've almost died already because of him, now you putting yourself into situations-"

"I've been put myself into life threatening situations since I was a child, Daavos and somehow I have survived all of them," Everra interrupted.

"Not this time," Daavos said pleadingly, "My lady, the woman herself said that the shadow appeared to those they intend to kill, as the person whom wants them dead the most, how can you possibly defend-"

"I am not defending him, Daavos," Everra interrupted yet again, her voice coming out in a harsh whisper, "I am merely withholding my judgement until we have further proof-"

"What more proof do you need?" Daavos asked, bitterly.

Everra did not answer, instead, she sighed softly, her eyes narrowing as she thought of a response.

"Though he may be changing, Robb still clings to his dreams of honour and doing things the safest way possible, trying to make sure that the least amount of people get hurt. He wouldn't send someone to kill me, its not in his nature, Daavos."

"As you say, my lady," Daavos muttered, rising from his chair and when he almost reached the exit of the tent, Everra called out.

"Don't ever question my decisions this much ever again, Daavos, my word is final."

* * *

Jon entered the tent hesitantly, his nerves growing with each agonising second. He had seen her a few times whilst she was bedridden, but never alone.

He wondered momentarily what he was here for.

"Jon," he heard her say, and his attention was then drawn to her. She was behind a screen and Jon swallowed nervously, his hands fidgeting.

"My lady," he responded, trying to keep his nervousness out of his voice.

Jon could hear her move behind the screen and he waited patiently for her to fish. When she emerged she was dressed in a thick beige robe, her long raven hair dripping down her front.

"Sit down," she said, gesturing to a chair, "Please."

"I think I'd prefer to stand my lady, if you don't mind," Jon retorted, his voice firm.

She nodded at him, and something very akin to nervousness flickered in her eyes for a brief moment, before disappearing.

"Your-"

"Why-"

They both fell short on their words, looking at each other uncomfortably.

"Your loyalty during a time in need has not been forgotten," Everra stated, looking directly into Jon's eyes.

"My lady-"

"You are no longer an apprentice," She finished, "You are now a master in your own right, Jon. You are now allowed to accompany Daavos and I to your brothers war councils and will now be allowed to sit on my own personal council."

Jon looked down, shocked at her words.

"My lady, while I am flattered, I'm not to sure why your doing this- if you don't mind me asking," He added, not wanting to insult her.

"You've earned it," she said simply.

Somehow, it didn't feel like it.

* * *

"Anna," Jon called out, catching her by the elbow.

"Jon," she said, smiling up at him. Jon could tell that it was not real by how her eyes tightened nervously when she looked at him.

They had not seen each other in two weeks, whenever Jon came into the same room as her, she left as fast as she could. She was avoiding him, plain and simple. At first, Jon understood, he was frightened too, but now he was getting angry. She taught him to deal with his emotions and not to run from them, now _she_ was the one running.

"You've been avoiding me," Jon told her softly, still holding onto her elbow.

She fidgeted at the accusation, her eyes drifting downwards and Jon could see her swallow uncertainty.

"Let go of me," she whispered, her eyes flying up to meet his.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Jon whispered back.

"Let. Me. Go." she hissed at him, her eyes flashing and before Jo could comprehend what was happening, she had yanked her elbow out of his grip and was stalking away from him.

Perhaps he should run too.

* * *

"Lady Everra." Robb said, looking at her nervously.

"Your grace," she countered, walking towards him.

Robb rose from his chair but did not move otherwise, waiting for to reach the other side of the table.

They were silent for a while, not quite knowing what to say. The tension that had dimmed was suddenly returning in full force, making the air around them almost suffocating.

"I am glad you are well," Robb started, his voice limp.

One of her eyebrows rose questingly at his words and Robb almost flushed down to his toes. He was acting like a bumbling fool, not a like a King.

"I just wanted to thank you for your cooperation in this whole alliance fiasco, I just wanted you to know that I never once doubted your loyalty towards me," Robb said, his voice growing stronger with each passing moment.

 _I need you._

The words sprung into Robb's mind suddenly and he could feel his cheeks begin to flush though he was determined to keep it down, fidgeting where he stood.

"I never once thought you doubted me, your grace," Everra said. The lie was thick on her tongue and for the first time in a long time, she could not figure someone out.

 _What are you up to Robb?_ She thought.

"Is there something else you wished to speak with me about your grace?" Everra asked coldly.

"I-uh," Robb started, looking at her.

"No," he confessed.

"Then I think we are done here," Everra said, taking a step back and turning around, walking away.

Robb found himself springing forward, his heart in his throat, "Everra-"

She was gone.

 _What am I turning into?_

Robb did not even want to know the answer.

* * *

Anna laid out the dress on the bed neatly, waiting for Everra to rise from the bath.

Everra looked at her from where she lay in the bath, her eyes narrowing as she realised that she had not seen much of her handmaiden in a while. There was something different about her, Everra noted, her eyes had a lingering look of frustration and nervousness and she constantly had a worried look on he face, as if she thought someone was about to jump up and kill her.

Everra rose from the bath, her body dripping and reached for her robe and slipped it on, tying it at her waist. Anna hurried over to her quickly, her voice rising with panic.

"My lady you must be careful! The Maester said that you still needed some help-"

"I can put a robe on perfectly fine Anna," Everra interjected reaching up to remove the tie from her hair, allowing it to tumble down her shoulders.

"Do you wish for your hair to be up or down?" Anna asked excitedly, reaching for the wooden brush.

"Doesn't matter Anna," Everra muttered, her mind distracted by her thoughts.

Perhaps Robb would not strike today as she thought, perhaps he would not even wish to strike at all.

* * *

"My lady?" Daavos asked, entering the tent.

Everra's back was to him and all he could see was the back of her red dress and her raven locks bellowing down her back.

She turned around at the sound of his voice, shoving her dagger her sleeve.

"You look beautiful," he said, slightly mesmerised.

She looked at him, unimpressed before shaking her head slightly.

"Are you ready?" She asked quietly.

Daavos stiffened at her meaning.

"Like I said before, my lady, I am prepared to die for you if that is what me. . . tasting your food is," Daavos said calmly, looking at her.

Everra nodded at him, her eyes blank at his confession.

"Let's go," she said, walking past him.

Daavos's heart sunk in his chest.

* * *

"Everyone," Robb announced, clasping his hands together in front of his body, "Today we are here to celebrate the union of House Stark and House Legrath. Through the hardest and darkest of times, our houses will be able to rely on the other till the end of times."

The crowd clapped appropriately, waiting for him to finish.

"May I present the head of the Legrath house, Lady Everra," Robb finished.

Everra entered the tent at his beckon, Daavos, Jon, Youngbird and Lord Edwin behind her. Two warriors were behind them as well, carrying a golden platter that held two golden cups.

When they reached Robb they all bowed with Everra saying, "Your grace."

Her eyes were on Robb whilst she bowed, rising carefully.

A wooden stand stood nearby, with a long sheet of paper and two quills laying next to it. The pact.

"These are two cups I brought from my travels in Essos," Everra started, gesturing to the cups, "I hoped we could toast with them, to our newfound alliance."

Robb nodded at her, smiling slightly taking a step towards her.

"With wine from my home, we will toast to a new beginning!" Robb stated, watching as the crowd clapped enthusiastically.

Everra watched as two servant boys hurried forward to fill the cups with wine and she could practically feel Daavos stiffen behind her.

Before they made their way to them, Daavos quickly stepped forward and sent Everra a questioning look. Everra nodded and watched as he took a cup from one of the servants, taking a sip. He nodded at her and moved forward, handing her the cup.

Robb was growing at her when she turned to look at him and by that time the other cup had made its way to his hands.

"To our new beginning," he stated, raising his cup.

"To our new beginning," she echoed, bringing her cup up to her lips before being cut off by the sound of Daavos violently coughing.

On impulse, she dropped her cup and distantly heard it clang when it reached the ground. She whirled around, looking at Daavos whom was continuing to cough violently his eyes bulging. Her heart was pounding furiously in her chest, and she was distantly aware of someone pushing the cup out of Robb's hands. By now, foam was beginning to form by Daavos mouth as he fell to the ground, convulsing.

She hurried forward towards him, watching as a healer surrounded him.

"Save him," she snarled.

Rage was pounding through her veins as she turned to look at Robb, the chaos surrounding them matching the emotions whirling inside of her.

"Now!" She yelled and distantly heard the shrieks as numerous of her unsullied barrelled inside the tent, their swords and spears drawn as they came in and shielded her from the other side. The northmen's swords were drawn and she could distantly hear them shouting towards Robb.

"Lady Everra!" Robb called out, managing to pull himself from the fray of guards surrounding him.

"We didn't do this!" He called out, looking at her desperately.

"We should have killed her when we had the chance!" A lord yelled.

Everra snapped her eyes away from Robb's, her rage becoming uncontrollable. She caught sight of Jon and before she could even comprehend what she was doing, she punched him in the stomach, and then turned him around him so that he was facing Robb and pressed a knife to his neck.

"Let us leave peacefully and no one will get hurt," she said, pressing the knife against his neck tighter.

"My lady please-" Jon said.

"Let him go," Robb demanded, looking at her coldly.

"I helped you," Everra said coldly, "I wanted to keep you alive and you try to kill me in return."

She smirked bitterly and said, "So much for not wanting me to die right?"

She watched as Robb's eyes widened at her words, as he realised that she had indeed heard what he had said to her. Not that it matters now.

Robb eyes drifted towards Daavos, whom had stopped convulsing and had managed to stand next to her.

"Why would I want you dead?" He questioned urgently, looking at her, "I have no reason whatsoever, no motive. I want this alliance, I need this alliance to win this war. Why would I jeopardise that?"

He watched as her raged filled eyes begin to soften slightly as she begun to realise what he was saying.

"Think, Lady Everra. Your perhaps the most intelligent person in this room, whom did not want this alliance to happen?"

He watched as she let her grip on Jon go and watched his brother rub his neck, glancing up at Daavos.

Jon stood, his brown eyes widening with shock as he addressed Daavos.

"It was you," he said.

Everra froze, not looking at Daavos somehow managing to keep her gaze on Robb's.

"He never wanted you to side with Robb, _he_ was the one whom objected to the alliance the most," Jon continued.

 _No._ Everra thought.

 _It couldn't be._

"Daavos would _never_ harm me," she insisted fiercely.

"You weren't the target," Robb found himself saying, "The alliance was."

"Daavos," Everra asked, turning to look at the person whom she was closest to trusting in this world, "Is what they say true?"

Daavos's grey eyes flickered with anger but then slowly but surely, grew unapologetic.

"This alliance would have cost you your life, my lady," He said, " I could not let that happen."

Everra's eyes grew cold and she could feel her heart tighten in her chest and every single wall that he had ever come close to breaking down shot right back up.

"This treachery will cost you yours," she uttered coldly.

"Tie him up to a tree," she commanded and watched as two guards dragged him away, her heart tightening with every step they took.

"Stand down," she muttered to her soldiers and then stalked out of the tent, aware of Robb coming after her.

"Everra-"

"Tomorrow," she promised, turning around to look at him, "Tomorrow."

* * *

It was raining.

Everra stood stiffly, her face cold and aloof as she watched Lord Bolton scratch Daavos with his knife, watched as the blood seeped out of the wound. It was the twenty third cut out of twenty five. The twenty fifth ending with her. Her subject, her responsibility.

She was aware of Robb watching her closely but she refused to look back at him.

Blood was pouring from Daavos's mouth and she watched as he coughed, blood splattering on the grass beneath him.

She watched as Robb walked to him, drawing out his own dagger.

Twenty four.

Detachment was key, she reminded herself. She loved nothing. Loved no one. Caring was for the weak.

She was soaked to the bone but she did not shiver even though her wet hair clung to her skin as she moved forward towards _him,_ drawing out the sword that wound end his life.

 _Thump._

Her heart was still beating.

 _Thump._

How could she do this?

 _Thump._

Grey eyes met her green ones and she swallowed slightly, careful not to show any vulnerability.

"Be strong," he whispered.

 _Love is weakness_ she thought, as she plunged the sword into his chest. For a moment she was glad it was raining so that no one heard the small gasp she let out.

She watched as Daavos breathed his last breath and when he sunk over, his grey eyes becoming lifeless, she broke.


	28. Daavos

**A/N HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARVELMYRA! Thank you so much for your constant and unconditional support for this story. It means so much to me. This is not a chapter, more like a few drabbles of Daavos's life, small snapchats of it, so too speak. I didn't manage to get the new chapter ready for today, so I made this instead. Thanks for all your support. Happy BIRTHDAY! :) :)**

 **Emptiness**

Before he met her, his life was a never ending misery. He drifted from town to town, his vision blurring with each passing moment he spent bringing a cup of wine to his lips.

There was just this _hollowness_ that never went away. A never ending sadness that he feared would haunt him until the end of his days. _His brother. His mother._

Eventually, he manages to pick himself up again- before he meets her- but that emptiness never quite goes away.

* * *

 **Love**

When he was still a child he would ask his mother where is his father was. When he would come back, did he love them?

Even though he was a child he could still the pain in his mothers eyes when he mentioned his father and so slowly over the years, he stopped asking.

He hears the whispers, of how he is a bastard, how is father was a thief and a _disgusting man._

His mother, kind woman she was, always spoke highly of him, no matter how much pain was in her eyes.

"If you truly love someone," she told him one day, "you never stop loving them- no matter what they do."

* * *

 **Emerald Eyes**

She's young.

It is the first thing that Daavos thinks when he first meets the girl- the _woman_ whom everyone seems to be so afraid of. Her chest is still flat, her skin still unscarred, her hair long black and flowing. She is a child but her _eyes._ They are a colour Daavos has never quite seen on a person.

They are a striking green with small barely noticeable flecks of gold. They are cold and hardened in a way that a child eyes never should be. In that moment he understands what everyone is so fearful of.

This woman (child) would kill anyone who stood in her way and he can tell from the look in her eyes. Most would be afraid, he simply wants to be by her side when she does.

(He doesn't admit it for a long time but those eyes haunt him in his sleep)

* * *

 **Scar**

He's known her for three years, and has been by her side for less than that and it is only after two years of knowing her does he first see it. Her scar.

She is a beautiful girl, anyone can tell that she will grow up to be a beautiful woman. He see's the lustful stares and the jealous ones too and somehow he manages to convince himself that she is not as beautiful as they say (Loving a woman like her would be a death sentence).

It is only one day, when they are sweating under the heat of the sun and she is stretching upwards, her tunic sliding up with her and her smooth skin exposing itself does he see it. He tries to divert his eyes-as per usual- but the sight of the long jagged scar stops him.

There is a sudden lump in his throat and his eyes must speak for themselves because she rolls her eyes and tells him to grow up (because _fuck_ she grew up too fast).

* * *

 **Child**

 _She's a child,_ he tells himself late at night, unable to sleep. _She's much more than that._ The thought appears in his mind unannounced- and unwanted.

She is more than just a child. She's the most intelligent person he has ever known. The most mature as well, and the most authoritative. She can command anyone to do anything with a simple look.

 _He loves her._

* * *

 **Family**

He has none. Family that is.

His mother is dead along with his brother. His father is. . . gone. He has no one else.

Neither does she. She never talks about her mother-or her father for that matter. Nor has he ever asked (she never asked about his family). When he accepts that he loves her- how much he does not let himself admit- he thinks that maybe, just maybe. . .

They can be each others family.


	29. Chapter 26: Seeking Darkness

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from the game of thrones universe.**

 **A/N HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAWAIIXKISSES! Thank you for all of your incredible support, it mean so much to me. Sorry that this chapter is short guys, but I kind of got writers block when writing this chapter, I don't know why. Anyway, I'm glad you all liked last chapter and were shocked by what happened. I wanted you guys to be. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! THANKS FOR ALL OF YOUR SUPPORT! :)**

Chapter 26

She watches as they drag his lifeless body away, his shirt drenched in both blood and water. The sight makes her feel sick to her stomach.

The sword is still in her hands and she can feel the warm wetness of blood tainting her fingers. _Daavos's blood._ She can feel her stone heart cracking against the waves of emotions inside her, can feel the steady rock begin to break off due to the sea's never-ending abuse towards it.

 _You did what needed to be done,_ she tells herself firmly and grips the sword even tighter. The words make her steel herself against the emotions, _Love is weakness._ Daavos was love. Daavos was loyal and obedient and lived _for her._

Look at the thanks he got.

* * *

Robb can feel the intensity of his mothers gaze through the rain, can hear someone asking him whether or not he wants to come inside, he shook his head, the rain beating against his head. He stood there, watching her as the people around them left.

He took a few steps forward towards her, watching her eyes narrow slightly and every so often _something_ would flicker in her eyes before they hardened. He could see her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping the sword in her hand.

"Everra," he whispered, his hand resting top of the one holding onto the sword, "Let go."

Her hands were so cold.

Her green eyes flickered up towards him and his heart froze at the absolute _emptiness_ that was in her eyes.

"Ever-" He started.

She tore her hand away from his and stalked away from him, the sword leaving her hand with an audible _thud._

* * *

 _What did I do?_

Everra gazed down at her bloodied hand and swallowed loudly. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her wet dress and hair clinging to her skin.

She suddenly felt so sick she could not handle it. All the encouragement and reminders and barriers and all the walls she had built up came crashing down as a sob rose up in her throat as she violently scrubbed at her skin.

 _What did I do?_

She sprung up from where she was sitting, her eyes darting across the tent wildly looking for something, _anything._

" _Get off-"_ she spat out, scrubbing at her hand even harder.

Her skin was on fire, the flames beginning to engulf her as her grief and her guilt came rising to the surface and-

 _What did I do?_

The sob finally left her throat and she jumped at the sound, startled, her hands rising to cover her mouth.

 _No._

 _Love is weakness._

 _Daavos is dead._

She breathed in deeply and could feel the familiar feeling of her heart slowly and slowly hardening with each passing moment, until it was cold and hardened in her chest.

 _Emotions are for the weak._

Still, there was a small voice echoing in the back of her mind.

 _What did I do?_

* * *

"Lady Everra," Robb said, his eyes widening at the sight of the familiar raven haired woman. He could see out of the corner of his eye the other Lords looking at each other, slightly shocked.

"Your grace," she replied, her voice cold and eyes hardened.

Robb was at a loss for her words for a moment and just as he was about to respond she said, "You all seem shocked."

Robb frowned, looking at her trying to guess what she was thinking.

 _Come on Everra,_ he thought.

"Due to the your recent loss, we all assumed-" Lord Bolton started.

"Well you assumed wrong," she snapped, "A traitor is not worth feeling anything for let alone thinking about."

The war council went on for hours and hours, everyone trying to ignore the empty seat beside Everra. The tension in the air was strong, what happened two nights ago still fresh in everyones mind.

Robb kept an eye on her throughout it, looking for any sign of loss, grief. . . _anything._ There was nothing in her eyes except a coldness so sharp he could swear that goosebumps appeared under his clothing.

A lump formed in his throat as he suddenly remembered what he had to ask her. _Soon._

"Lady Everra," Robb called out, causing Everra to stop in her tracks, "Please stay back, I wish to speak with you."

"As you wish, your grace," she replied, turning around to look at him. Her eyes nearly darted to the empty seat where she was sitting, before meeting Robb's blue ones.

"Your grace?" she asked, her voice cold.

"We need to do something with the body," Robb blurted out, his eyes wide.

Everra almost stiffened at his words before asking, "Burn it. Bury it in a whole somewhere. To be quite frank your grace, I do not really care care what you do with it."

 _Love is weakness._

Everra could see Robb frowning at her words, his blue eyes conflicted.

"Did he have any family?" He asked, "Or anyone else whom would want him to receive a proper burial?"

"No," Everra replied firmly, "He didn't have anyone."

 _Except me._

"Alright," Robb said, taking a step towards her, "Everra-"

"Your grace, may I leave now?" Everra interrupted.

"Yes-"

She was gone before he could finish his sentence.

* * *

"Well, well, well," Jaime drawled, looking up at her. Even though he was covered in dirt, grime and hair he was still exactly as he was before, "Look who finally decided to visit me! And here I thought you had forgotten about me."

A monster.

Everra ignored him and instead sent a pointed look to the guard standing outside the cell and watched as the guard hesitantly left.

Her eyes then drifted towards Jaime before she sat down on the muddy ground, her back against the cell, a good distance away from Jaime.

"Come to talk about lover boy or maybe its the older lover boy this time? The guy who followed you around like a lost puppy," Jaime taunted.

Everra did not respond, instead choosing to stare at him blankly.

"Oh but wait," Jaime said, his voice dripping with malice, "I heard you killed him."

"You heard right," Everra said, her voice bland.

There was a few moments of silence between the two of them before Jaime broke it, "And what? You think I'd offer you my sympathies for the poor dead guy whose name I can not even remember? You came to the wrong place if your looking for sympathy- or anything else for that matter."

"Do I strike you as someone whom needs sympathy from others?" Everra snapped, her voice cold.

"No," Jaime admitted but then added, "But then again, what you did was. . . monstrous. I mean, that man was in love with you, even a blind man could have seen it, and was so _devoted_ to you and you kill him in return."

He shook his head mockingly, his mouth drawing into a sneer, "You must feel absolutely _awful."_

Everra did not respond to the abuse against her and merely sat there in silence, staring at him blankly. She waited and waited until he was finally finished and there was nothing but silence between them.

Only after the sun had begun to go down did she stand from where she sat and make her way out of the cell.

"You didn't come here expecting sympathy did you?" Jaime asked, "You came here because you knew I would be the only one in this gods forsaken came whom would tell you what you really are. A monster. You need to hear it, it makes you feel powerful and in control." _Like me._

The implication was obvious even if he did not say the words aloud.

"Thank you for your company, Ser Jaime," Everra said stiffly, "I look forward to doing this again."

* * *

"Everra," Robb said, entering her tent.

He watched as she placed her brush down on the table in front of her and then turned around to look at him.

"May I help you with something your grace?" Everra asked.

It was then that her eyes drifted towards the objects in his hands and he watched her eyes dart away from the objects in his hands.

"These are for you," Robb said, placing down a sword, a chain and a small case full of things. "It was all the personal items that we could find of his, I thought that you might want them."

Everra could feel her eyes narrow as she looked at the objects on the table, and could feel her heart begin to soften ever so slightly.

"Good night my lady," she heard Robb say before leaving.

She walked forward and grabbed a hold of the chain, her hands clue clenching around it.

"How could you be so stupid?" She whispered, her voice echoing inside the empty tent.

She then straightened her back and though she was still holding onto the chain in her palm, called in her guards.

"Take these things away," she commanded, gesturing towards the other objects.

They nodded and left quickly, leaving her all alone once more.

 _What did I do?_


	30. Chapter 27: Consumed

Chapter 27

Perhaps Anna should have felt sad as she read the letter in her hands, but while she did feel small traces of sadness, she mostly felt relief.

Relief that she could leave.

That she did not have to live like _this._

With guilt thrumming through her veins every time she walked through the camp, feeling _his_ eyes on her. Judging her. Marking her. Reminding her.

But that would be over now.

Finally.

Her heart clenches painfully in her chest at the thought of brown eyes topped with black hair and suddenly all the relief vanishes from her body, leaving it empty of feeling.

They wanted her to come back.

Her father was sick, not near death at least for now, the Maester wrote. But still, just in case they said. They needed more people back at RedRun, since most of their people had come with them to war, except for those not part of the army. She wasn't needed there- here- not really. She was a small help in the grand scheme of things, only helping her mistress and bandaging the wounded and-

Those damn brown eyes flash through her mind once more and burn the back of her eyelids when she closes her eyes in an attempt to flush the thought out of her mind.

Leaving would be harder than she thought.

* * *

Jon dove forward, rolling on the floor before quickly landing back up on his feet, whirling around to face his opponent. He twirled the wooden sword in his hands before putting it into the position that Youngbird had once advised him would be the most successful in battle.

The man dove forward, his harm outstretched before Jon quickly snapped forward, clashing his sword against his and sidestepped out of the way, quickly whacking his sword against the other mans back, watching him stumble forward face first on the ground.

Jon stopped where he stood, wiping his hand against his brow, his hand sticky with sweat.

He stepped forward, offering his hand to the man on the ground, "Good match?"

The man nodded warily, taking his hand and allowing himself to be pulled back up.

They had not had a battle in a few weeks since the Battle of Oxcross and the men were beginning to become restless, sitting there like sitting ducks. Not that Jon particularly blamed them, they all wanted to go home, to their wives, families, children.

Jon ignored the slight tightening in his stomach as he realised that he did not have much to go back to. His father was dead, and while he did have his siblings it was not the same. Not anymore.

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of a familiar voice, "You've improved since we last sparred."

He whirled around to see Robb standing nearby and while his words may have been light his eyes were serious. The man beside him quickly lowered his eyes and muttered, "Your grace." Then quickly scampered off, taking the hint.

"Robb," Jon said, walking forward towards him.

"Jon," Robb returned, his voice lightening up slightly, his features loosing all of their seriousness, though his eyes were still slightly guarded.

There was a few moments of tense silence before Jon asked, "What are you doing here Robb?"

How far they were from " _Farewell Snow"_.

"You have not been attending the recent war councils," Robb said, "I've been wondering as to why that is?"

Jon shrugged slightly, his eyebrows lowering into a frown as he shot his half brother a glance, "I wasn't aware that that offer was still on the table."

Robb seemed to look slightly uncomfortable at his words and he shot a quick glance around them to make sure that no one was listening before he leaned forward slightly, his voice in a whisper, "For Lady Everra it might not be, but for me it is."

"I serve Lady Everra now, Robb," Jon said, his voice slightly accusing, "I can't sit on her war councils or any of her personal councils unless she invites me to do so-"

"But she did," Robb said, "Has she ever told you not to come since—"

"No," Jon snapped, his voice tense but he could still feel the cold metal blade against his skin and the accusations spilling from her lips.

"Then can you _please_ come," Robb said, rubbing his hands against his brow.

Jon looked at him sharply, his desperation not making that much sense.

Robb then seemed to realise how desperate he must have sounded because his features quickly hardened and he took a step back away from Jon, his voice growing cold, "I expect to see you there next time the war council commences."

Somehow Jon knew it wasn't just a suggestion.

* * *

When the next war council did commence, Jon was very hesitant in coming along. He had paused outside the tent, gulping loudly before entering, his fists almost clenching at his sides.

The room did not go quiet when he entered. While there were some curious and hostile glances sent his way no one else seemed to care, almost nodding in acceptance.

It was then that Jon was hit with the realisation that people had more important things to worry about then whether or not a bastard was sitting on a war councils. They were fighting a war.

If it didn't bother them, it shouldn't bother him.

It still did.

Though he knew it should have not, it still did, though not as much as it did when he was younger.

Their acceptance was temporary, he told himself, when the war was over he would still be a bastard.

Robb sent a glance his way and Jon could see the flash of appreciation, of the gratefulness in his eyes, even if it was for a brief moment.

Jon had to admit that he was confused as to why exactly Robb seemed so desperate for him to join now. It had indeed been weeks since Ser Daavos's death, yet Robb had made no move to reach out to him before that. Sure, he talked to Jon occasionally but never about these matters, he had never made any indication that he wanted him there. Jon understood but the bitterness he felt when he saw Robb was uncontrollable, inevitable almost. Jon's eyes scanned across the room, searching for an empty chair and when his eyes landed on one, the figure sitting next to it caused the bitterness to rise in his chest.

 _So thats why he wants me here._

Lady Everra.

Her posture was straight, her aura as unapproachable as always, yet Jon was surprised to find her gaze on him, though her eyes revealed none of her thoughts. When their eyes met across the room, she seemed to almost nod slightly, as if in acceptance of his presence and Jon let out a small sigh of relief.

He walked towards the chair and when he finally reached it, he stopped and played a hand on it, waiting for her approval. She nodded slightly, and then he sat down beside her and he could not help but think that this was the place of a dead man, being by her side.

"You came," she said lowly, so that no one could hear, her eyes glanced towards his face.

Jon nodded, muttering, "Indeed I did, my lady, I hope that it is not a problem with you."

"No," she said, cutting him off firmly, "It's not."

Everyone then chose at that moment to take their seats, looking up at the table at Robb, whom had just taken a seat. Grey wind lay near his feet and his slight movements now filled the silent room.

"The past of few weeks have been difficult," Robb announced, his voice firm but not harsh, Jon noticed. "Due to the recent surrenders of nearby Castles and the Lannister's being holed up at Harrenhall and Stannis preparing for his attack on Kings Landing—"

Jon shot a sharp look at Lady Everra, and his confusion must have been clear on his face because she leaned over slightly and whispered, 'We have received recent reports that Stannis has begun to prepare his ships and his men for an attack. With majority of the Lannister's army at Harrenhall leaves Kings Landing mostly defenceless therefore vulnerable to an attack."

Jon frowned at her words, wondering why _they_ were not attacking the Lannister's if they were vulnerable.

"We do not have enough ships," Lady Everra whispered to him, almost as if reading his thoughts, "Also, the probability of Stannis winning is debatable."

"You think he will lose, my lady." It wasn't a question, it was an observation.

She nodded discreetly, her eyes now looking at Robb intently. Jon observed how she looked at him, almost as if she were an artist admiring her work. Not that she was staring at him in awe, or with happiness or anything in-between, but with a cold satisfaction almost. Jon did not know the nature of the relationship between his brother and Lady Everra and though it may not be obvious, there was more than meets the eye.

Love was out of the question.

But as Jon continued to observe his brother, and how often he discreetly managed to cast a glance their way, he concluded that infatuation may a possibility.

* * *

"We need to strike soon," Robb concluded, "And fast."

The room was tense at his words, wary glances thrown across the room.

"The Lannister's or the Baratheon's?" Everra asked, settling her gaze on Robb.

His blue eyes settled on her and Everra could almost pick up on his poorly concealed anger and frustration.

"The Lannister's," He answered, "They are currently in their most vulnerable position throughout the months that we have been at war. We need to wipe out their main source of power, where they get their strength from."

"Kings Landing is where they get their strength from," A lord called out, his voice echoing across the tent, "And we don't have any ships to do so."

"We have some but not enough for an army of almost 40,000, besides, majority of our soldiers are not even trained to fight on the water, let alone manage a ship," Everra snapped.

The man glared at her, his hands clenching into fists and the vein by his neck becoming more and more visible by the second.

"Calm yourselves," Robb snapped, "I was not thinking of Kings Landing."

Silence settled over the room at his words.

Everra however felt a wariness creep over her.

"You want to attack Casterly Rock," Jon said from beside her, his voice filled with something very akin to wonder.

That was the last plan that Robb had before he died.

"Yes," Robb replied.

That was when the room snapped into action, some yelling loudly, others conversing with Robb or those sitting beside them. Maps were being rolled out onto the table, numbers were being thrown about and Robb was glancing at her, almost as if looking for a slight approval .

They had not talked to each other once, in the past few weeks. Months even.

 _Was this some kind of sign?_ Everra wondered, _Of his impending death?_

Still, she nodded at him, approving of the plan.

The hours flew by as they planned and planned and discussed and when eventually the sun began to set and people began to drift from the room and when everyone had left, Everra stood from her seat, waiting there patiently. It had been a while since they had spoken with one another.

"Your grace," she said, watching him closely.

"Lady Everra," he returned.

The silence between them was tense, awkward even.

"What do you think of the attack?" Robb asked.

She regarded with a certain curiousness that made Robb feel slightly uneasy.

"I think that it is well thought, both strategically and morally, if we manage to take Casterly Rock we manage to bring the Lannister's to their knees to strike the final blow. Kings Landing."

Robb sighed loudly and muttered loud enough for her to hear, "That is if Stannis does not take it first."

Everra shot him a sharp look, her eyes narrowing, "If Stannis does take Kings Landing then we have one less enemy to worry about," she said, her voice almost accusing.

"You want to be the one to wipe out the Lannister's don't you?" In though it was posed as a question, Robb knew not to answer, "You want to get revenge and see Joffrey be brought down to his knees. You want to make sure that you are the one to save your sister."

"Wouldn't you want to get revenge if they had done the same to your family?' Robb shot back, his eyes stormy.

"A war can not be one if the reason why one is fighting is to get revenge. While revenge is one of the greatest motivators in the world, it is also one of the greatest sources of idiotic decisions that winds up with people getting killed," she snapped.

"I'm not fighting this war for revenge," Robb stated and at her raised eyebrow he amended, "Well, not only for that."

They stared at each other for a few moments, the tension building and just as Robb was about speak once more, someone entered the tent.

"Robb," Catelyn said, her eyes darting towards Everra, her eyes flashing with suspicion.

Everra nods at Robb and muttered, "Have a good night, your grace."

Robb and Catelyn stood there in awkward silence, waiting for the other to talk.

"Mother—"

"What are you doing?" She hissed at him, her blue eyes flashing.

Robb whirled around to look at her, his eyes widening, "Mother—"

"You are betrothed," she snapped, "Does that not mean anything to you—"

"Mother of course that _means_ something to me," Robb snapped back, taking a step closer towards her.

"Then you must have forgotten otherwise you would not be—"

"Believe me mother I have not forgotten," Robb snapped harshly, his blue eyes furious, "I do not need you barging into my tent, interrupting a conversation I was having with one of my closest _advisors_ and telling me to remember the fact that I am betrothed to someone I do not know. Now, why are you here?"

Catelyn tenses at his words, her blue eyes losing most of their fury and she lets out a loud defeated sigh, sitting down on the chair behind her, observing her son with a tiredness that makes Robb lose all of his fury as well.

"I just—" she starts, her voice catching in her throat, "I just want to make sure you don't get hurt."

Robb snorts at that, he is fighting a war now, he is a king now, there are more important matters to worry about then whether or not he gets hurt.

He tells her so as well and when she sighs softly, concern evident in her eyes she looks so helpless and unlike his usual strong willed mother that Robb walks towards her and kneels down in front of her, clasping his hand in hers.

"I know mother," he says gently, "But it is a little to late for that."

Catelyn eyes him carefully and he does not attempt to talk, waiting for her to find the words she wants to say.

"Love didn't just happen to us," she starts, her blue eyes lightening slightly, some of the helplessness leaving them, "We built it slowly over the years, stone by stone. For you, for your brothers and sisters— for _all_ of us. I want that for you. That love is stronger," she says, her voice pleading, "It lasts longer."

Robb eyes her with a slight confusion, though it does not take him long to realise why she is saying this— or better yet, _whom_ she is saying this for.

"Mother—" he starts but is cut off by her.

"Its not as exciting as love in the time of war but—"

"There is no love," Robb grits out, frustrated and pulls away from his mother, "Let me make this abundantly clear mother, there is no inappropriate relationship between myself and Lady Everra, do I make myself clear? I do not know what you have heard—'

"I haven't heard anything!" she says, her voice rising slightly, "But I see the way you interact with her, how you need her approval, how you worry for her, how you forgave her for almost betraying you—"

"She thought we tried to kill her—"

"See!" she said, "Even how you defend her actions. She's changed you," she says, her voice softening, "for better or worse I do not know."

Robb ground his teeth together in anger, his eyes flashing dangerously, "Mother, I have no intention whatsoever to break my oath to the Freys. None. I have no romantic feelings towards Lady Everra and there is no 'love in the time of war'.'

She nods slightly, though Robb can tell that she is not fully convinced.

"If you treat your oaths recklessly your men will do the same," she says gently yet firmly, "I came here to warn you, not to criticise you."

Robb nodded at her words and replied, "I know mother, I know. "

* * *

Everra was surprised to find Anna already in her chambers when she returned, ready to help her wash and undress.

Anna seemed preoccupied recently, constantly being late or in a constant hurry, not eager to be around for long.

So when Everra see's her shifting on her feet nervously, biting down on her lower lip as she splashes water onto her face, she stops for a moment, eyeing her intensely.

"What is the matter Anna?"

Anna jumps at her words, looking startled.

"Do not tell me that something is not the matter," she snaps at her, "Get it over with and tell me now."

Anna hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath before saying. "I am requesting permission to return to RedRun, my lady."

Everra did not say anything, instead just continued to splash water on her face, waiting for her to finish.

"My father is ill," Anna says desperately, almost as if needing her to understand, to see that she is not a coward.

"Go," Everra said, not moved by her desperation.

Anna looked at her for a moment, shocked and gaped at her muttering, 'My lady?"

"Go," Everra stated, "Leave if you must."

Though Anna knows she should not, she feels hurt begin to bloom in her chest, a sadness overcoming her.

 _Is that it?_ she thought, _We may not see each other ever again._

Still though, she begins to walk out of the tent, stung by the dismissal.

She stopped when she reached the exit however, and said our enough for Everra to hear, "I hope we meet again, my lady."

Then she left, before she could do something stupid like cry.

* * *

"Anna," Jon said, entering the tent.

He did not see her at dinner, where they usually ate, even though he saw her earlier in the morning. She seemed fine then, so when she did not turn up he was worried.

What he did not expect was for her to be packing her belongings in a small bag, her back to him.

"Anna?" It is a question know, a plea for some sort of explanation.

The confusion and denial that builds in his chest is crushing and he feel as though a boulder was just thrown on top of him, making it difficult to breathe.

She jumps slightly, her back stiffening at the sound of his voice and it takes her a few good moments before she turns around, wiping at her eyes.

"Jon," she says with false brightness, "What are you doing here?"

"I was worried when you did not show up for dinner," he says and he can not stop the bitterness from rising in his veins, "Though I seem to be interrupting you packing though I did not even know that you were leaving."

Anna winces at his tone, guilt evident on her face.

"Jon you must understand that I have to—"

"Were you even going to tell me that you were leaving?" he says angrily, his voice rising, "Or were you planning on sneaking off in the middle of the night, not even bothering to say goodbye. As if we are no even friends—"

His voice drifted off at the look of guilt on her face and the sudden disbelief he feels takes over his body, "You were, weren't you? You were just going to up and leave. "

"Jon—"

"Do I really mean nothing to you?" He snaps at her, taking a step closer to her, "Or do you really not even care that I could die and then we would never have spoken to each other ever again—"

"Of course I care!" She says loudly, tears springing in her eyes, "I care— _so much._ Jon, I couldn't even bare to say goodbye to you because—"

"Because what?" he snaps at her.

"Because I knew that if I said goodbye to you I wouldn't want to leave," she admits, a tear streaming down her face.

Jon does not even care that he is supposed to be angry with her as he walks up to her and gently presses his lips to hers, muffling her sound of surprise.

It's a soft kiss, gentle, just the brushing of their lips before he pulls away, glancing down at her to see her staring up at him, with wonder in her eyes.

"I love you," he says, resting his forehead on hers.

He hears her inhale sharply in surprise, her eyes fluttering, "I love you too," she whispers, before pressing her lips against his.

This time the kiss is more firm, more powerful, it grows with their intensity and the warmness that is spreading all over his chest his slow but passionate and when her hands reach for the bottom of his tunic he pulls away from her, slightly surprised.

"Anna—"

"I want too," she whispers, pressing a small kiss on his chin, "I may never see you again. We may never have the chance to do this and I want this—" she gestures between them, "To be with you."

"I don't want to dishonour you—"

"You won't," she says gently, kissing him once more.

They don't talk as they undress each other gently, their passion gentle and not harsh, not angry.

When it is finished they are both lying next to each other, soaking up each others warmth. The camp is quiet in the dead of the night, the only sound besides their breathing is the wind.

Anna's head is resting against his chest, near his heart and she is drawing patterns on his skin with her fingers. Jon tries not to shiver at her touch and instead nuzzles his head into her neck, pressing a kiss there.

"I think we may have scared the other ladies away," he says and listens to her giggle, his heart swelling at the sound.

They stay quiet for a while, simply enjoying being in each others arms, before she whispers into his chest, "I don't want to leave you."

Jon presses a quick kiss to her forehead before staring into her eyes, wiping away the small tears streaming down her cheeks, "I want to marry you Anna."

She draws back from him, slightly shocked, "Don't say things you don't mean Jon—"

"But I do mean it," Jon says, his brown eyes more lively then they have been in months, "Anna I love you. That won't change, regardless of whether or not your here or at RedRun or even in Kings Landing. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Heck, lets go get married now—"

She slapped his shoulder playfully, the stars in her eyes, "Shh, be quiet."

After a few moments, Jon speaks, serious now, "I'm serious Anna, I want to marry you."

She glances at him, love in her eyes and traces his lips as if to memorise their shape.

"Okay," she says, "I'll marry you."

Jon smiles brightly at her and kisses her softly, slowly before she pulls away and says, "But only after the war is over. I don't want this to be an impulsive affair in the night Jon. I want my father to be there, to be married in my home with my friends, with you. Not surrounded by war and death."

Jon nods at her, happiness blooming in his chest, "Alright then."

* * *

A week passes slowly after their decision to attack Casterly Rock and there is a small wariness building inside Everra as the day to move comes closer and closer. There has been no word from Tyrion from Kings Landing and the feeling building inside her stomach is an uncomfortable, foreign one. Unwelcome.

The day is warm, the sun beating down on them.

That is why Everra is slightly surprised when some of the soldiers come into her tent, dragging a man in between them.

"What is this?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at the men.

"We found him, a Lannister spy near the edge of the forest my lady," they reply shortly.

The man does not attempt to struggle or even deny the fact that he is, in fact a spy and simply stands there silently, his head down.

"Look at me," Everra hisses at him, watching him tense at her words, "Look at me."

He does slowly, his wide blue eyes frightened.

"Are you a spy?" She asks slowly.

The man blinks for a few moments— a few moments too long as Everra reaches over and snaps his neck, watching him fall limp in her guards arms.

"Take him out of here," she snaps, returning to her seat.

She is not surprised when Robb comes barging into her tent not even an hour later, his blue eyes stormy and furious.

"Did you kill an unarmed man?" he asks her calmly, resting his hands on the back of the chair in front of him.

She paused her writing for a moment, thinking of a response, "Yes," she replied simply, continuing on.

"Why?" he bites out, his anger evident.

"He was a spy an was reporting information to one of our enemies," she replies flippantly, rising from her chair to reach for her seal.

"Does that not bother you somehow?"

Everra shot him a sharp glance and responded just as uncaringly as before, "No. Why should it?"

"Why should it?" he mutters, shaking his head in frustration.

"Why are you acting like a child?" She snapped, her green eyes aloof.

Robb's head snapped to look at her, his blue eyes furious but determined.

"Because you act as if you don't care about anyone or anything!" He yelled, taking a step closer to her.

"It's not an act-"

"I know you cared about Daavos," Robb said, cutting her off, "Don't you dare tell me otherwise."

Everra's eyes seemed to tighten at the accusation, her hands beginning to clench at her sides.

"You felt something for him," Robb said, his voice finally softening and the anger in his eyes diminishing by the second, "Your just too- too _scared_ to admit it."

"Believe what you think," is all she replied, her eyes still not revealing anything.

"I guess your just as cold hearted and unredeemable as they say," Robb said, his voice filled with bitterness.

"I presume so."

The silence was stifling to the both of them, the tension clawing at their throats, the words that needed to be said stuck in their throats.

"I'm apologetic," she finally said, capturing Robb's attention, "That I hurt you. That I am hurting you. I never. . ." her voice caught in her throat, the crack evident in her voice, "I _don't_ want that. Not like this."

"Right," Robb said, scoffing, " You probably can't wait for me to be dead. Not like it would matter, you don't care whether or not any of us lives or dies as long as we serve your purpose."

The words would have hurt her had they not been the truth. A horrible truth, but one that she had seemingly accepted a long time ago.

Still, the words fell out of her mouth.

"That isn't true," she said, her voice raw and her eyes showing just a small glint of _something,_ "I don't want you die."

Robb's eyes met with hers and before he knew what he was doing, he had closed the distance between them, tilted her chin upwards with his hands and pressed his lips to hers.

He remembered his mothers words, about how her and his father's love was built stone by stone, that it lasted longer, that he should strive for that and maybe he should, but not now. Not when a sudden fire sprung in his veins, a sudden _craving_ for more. _More_ of anything.

He suddenly understood the fear of wildfire. How it moved so fast and so quickly that you could blink and it would have spread over everything in its path, consuming it in its flames.

That's how he felt. Consumed.

For a few seconds, that is, before he felt her pull away from him, her eyes narrowed at him.

"No," she said, her voice firm and she took a step back away from him, "I don't feel that way. Not for you— or anyone else for that matter."

Robb nodded numbly, still in slight shock over what had happened.

 _How?_ Robb thought.

"You have a fiance" she said flatly, moving even further away from him.

Robb still did not say anything, still too consumed by shock to even begin to form words.

"Leave," she says coldly, "Your grace."

He did.

 _Shit._

* * *

 _What was that?_

For the first time in a long time, Everra was. . . . _speechless._ Not because of the possibility of _him_ having feelings for her- no she could have seen that coming from a long time back- but she never thought that _he_ would act upon them.

Perhaps he did not intend to, she rations, remembering the look on _his_ face when they- she- pulled away. Either way, Everra did not quite know how to react, feelings - romantic ones at that- were not something that she was easily able to grasp. She manipulated ones emotions every day of her life, she could read ones emotions, guess their emotions but she could never fully _understand_ them. Almost as if she were incapable of doing so. Which, to a certain degree, Everra acknowledged she was.

It would be easier to manipulate _him_ know, she amended, now that it was for certain that he at least felt some romantic feelings towards her but that meant that their. . . . _dynamic_ would change.

Everra tries to ignore the flash of grey eyes and blonde hair in her mind, ignoring the almost unnoticeable _pang_ in her chest.

Everra sank down in the chair, rubbing at her eyes, a sudden tiredness overcoming her.

 _Why is it,_ she thought, _that the good ones are always attracted to the monsters?_

' _This alliance would have cost you your life, I could not let that happen.'_

The words enter through her mind, dangerous and unannounced and she ignores the words, the mean nothing to her. They are the words of a ghost.

Everra sighed softly, rubbing at her eyes, her tiredness finally catching up with her.

She glanced at her bed and rose from her chair and walked over to the bed, falling face down onto it. She did not bother to change, or to even check where Andromache was as her eyes began to droop and she drifted off into a deep sleep.

* * *

"My lady," the voice whispered, waking Everra from her sleep.

She was distantly aware of a hand gently shaking her shoulder and snapped her eyes up at the intruder, about to snap at him before realising whom it was.

"Young bird," she said, propping herself up on her elbow, "Why have you woken me?"

He bit his lip, his anxiousness clear on his face, "Forgive me my lady but this is something of the utmost importance."

She frowned at him, an uneasy feeling clawing at her heart, "What is it?"

He didn't answer, his eyes looking everywhere but at her.

"Young bird what is it?" she demanded, her voice growing colder with each passing second.

"My lady this is for you," he said instead, handing her a small letter.

The bound had already been broken, a clear sign of someone having already read it.

Everra felt a sudden coldness seep into her bones as she stared down at the piece of paper in her palm.

* * *

Robb felt someone shake his shoulder roughly, his eyes cracking open to look at the intruder.

"Robb," his mother whispered, "wake up."

"Mother," he croaked, rubbing at his eyes.

She moved away from him then, lighting the candle by his bedside before blowing out the flame on the stick, shuffling around the tent.

Robb propped himself up on his elbows, and even though his eyes were still only half open he saw that the sun had not yet risen and could not hear the usual bustling of the soldiers outside.

"You are needed," she said, turning around to face him, "Something has happened."

Robb felt his stomach drop.

He leapt out of the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold ground below, before quickly shoving on his boots and reaching for the creased tunic he had tossed to the bottom of his bed in exhaustion.

"What is it?' he asked, the worry evident in his voice as he tied his cloak around his neck, glancing at his mother.

"She'll explain," is all she said in return.

Robb burst into the tent, adrenaline pumping through his veins and Robb could have sworn that he heard the distant echo of his heart beating in his ears.

He looked around the room, his eyes glancing from side to side as he slowly began to frown at the sign of the empty tent.

"Mother?" he asked, turning around to look at his mother, only to find that she had not entered with him.

He frowned once more, turning back again, before frowning at the sight of _her._

His stomach dropped at the sight of her, a sudden lump forming in his chest as the sudden feeling of soft lips overcame his senses.

He took a step towards her, clearing his throat before noticing her position.

She sat down in the chair she usually did, a creased piece of paper laying in front of her on the table. Her head was downcast, her raven locks sliding near the front of her face. From where Robb was standing he could see her hands curled into fists, her knuckles turning a bright red. She made no sign that she had noticed his presence and so he carefully stepped towards her, the feeling of nervousness disappearing with each step.

When he had reached the back of her chair, and he was so close to her that he could almost feel her locks brush against the side of his elbow.

"We were wrong," she said quietly, her voice breaking the silence in the room.

Robb frowned at her words, his blue eyes filling with confusion.

"Everra-"

"We got our message from Tyrion," is all she said, effectively cutting him off. She waved a hand towards the piece of paper laying in front of her and muttered, "Read it."

Robb looked at her cautiously, the utter. . . . _dullness_ in her voice surprising him. Her voice was usually firm and powerful but now it was just limp, weak almost except well, she could never truly be _weak._

Robb reached forward to grab a hold of the paper, his eyes squinting slightly in order to make out the small scrawl.

His skin grew cold and goosebumps began to appear all over his body as his eyes lingered over the words, begging internally for it not to be true.

 _No no no . . ._

"We were wrong," she said once more.

Her eyes glanced up to meet his but Robb glanced down at the words once more, his eyes lingering on the last sentence.

 _If you hurry you might be able to stop it._

Stannis wasn't attacking Kings Landing.

Nor was he attacking Winterfell.

"He's riding for RedRun," she said, almost as if reading his mind.

"My home."

"We'll send soldiers," Robb said pleadingly, his blue eyes widening with desperation, "We'll warn them-"

"Have I not taught you anything?" Everra said, her green eyes flashing sharply at him.

Robb gaped at her, confusion running through his veins, "What?"

Everra looked at him with an annoyed look on her face, waiting for him to finish.

"You don't want to stop the attack?" He asked.

"It's not a question of whether or not I want too, Ro- your grace its the matter of me- _us-_ not being able too."

Robb frowned at her, "Why—"

Everra let out a frustrated sigh and stood from her chair, forcing Robb to take a few steps back.

"Who knows that Stannis is riding to RedRun?" She asked.

"Us, Tyrion, Stannis-"

"Well obviously Stannis knows where he is riding to but you are not getting my point," she hissed at him, "Who told Tyrion about his plans? Whom could have known in Kings Landing?"

Robb frowned at her for a moment, thinking before the realisation hit him, "Varys."

She nodded at him, "Yes and whom would Varys have told _first_ when being brought with this information?"

Robb's heart clenched painfully in his chest as he spoke, "The Small Council."

"More specifically," Everra added, "The Lannisters. This siege is supposed to be known only to the people within Stannis's closest circle, it's a wonder Varys even received this information. If we sent troops to RedRun, they would know that we have an inside man in one of the camps. Kings Landing is the most dangerous place to be, especially for a spy, if they even suspected that one of them was one, they would be executed within the hour. We need that spy. We need Tyrion to give us information until this war is over. "

"So what?" Robb asked incredulously, "We just let all of your people die?"

Everra's eyes flickered downwards for a brief moment, before meeting his once more, "Stannis won't kill them all. He is doing this to show a sign of strength- _of victory_ before attacking Kings Landing. RedRun is supposed to be one of the most impenetrable castles in the whole of Westeros if he does manage to capture it then he seems-"

"All the more powerful," Robb finished, eyeing her closely.

"So we let innocent people die in order to maintain the safety of our spy?" Robb asked.

"Yes."

Everra's eyes lingered on Robb's face as she let the word fall from her mouth, watching his eyes fill with regret, guilt, helplessness but also with a newfound understanding. He was learning.

Good.

Her eyes flickered away from his face, the image of his shocked features flashing through her mind and the sudden tension that filled the room was not like that of before.

"Everra," he said softly, walking towards her, gently touching her shoulder with his hand.

Her back was to him so he could not see her reaction to his touch. Her soft tresses brushed against his hand and though he knew it was wrong ( he knew he knew he knew it down to his very bones) he _needed_ her. Not loved her. _Needed her._

He ignores the slight clench in his stomach as guilt begins to run through his veins. Her words thrum through his head _you are betrothed._

He just sentenced so many people to their deaths. Only the gods knew how many, _women, children,_ would be slaughtered for their decision.

"No," she said, gently shaking her shoulder out of his grasp.

"I'm only going to say this nicely one more time Robb," she said softly though as she turned around, grabbing onto the hand that was on her shoulder, her eyes had turned cold, not matching the gentleness of her voice, "I do not feel that way about you. You should not feel that way about me either."

Robb nodded, his eyes understanding but she did not let go of his hand for several moments.

"It's just that. . " Robb drifts off, his voice beginning to crack slightly.

She let go of his hand and for a brief- _small minuscule_ moment her lips curled up into a small smile.

"We do what is needed of us to survive," she said, perhaps not as coldly as she usually did, "Remember that."

 **Boom Out.**

 **Okay GUYS SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE! I've been really busy over the past few weeks and I injured my shoulder and it sucks and I'm better now so thats something and well I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Its quite long and it has quite a bit of romance. Yeah. . . I hope you guys enjoyed it. Like I really do. Romance scenes are really tricky for me to write and to try and not make them sound too cheesy. Hope you like the recent developments this chapter. Eve's feelings for Robb are not as 'grand' or romantic as Robbs feelings for her, obviously. . . if she even has feelings for him. Jon/Anna development? I felt it was a long time coming. . . The attack on RedRun by Stannis? Robb and Everra's decision ? Tell me your thoughts. Love You GUYS. THANKS FOR ALL OF YOUR SUPPORT. Remember to tell me your thoughts. Until next time. :)**

 **FionaKevin 073**


	31. Chapter 28: Choices

Chapter 28

While the sun began to rise outside of the tent, and the soldiers began to wake, Everra had not slept or moved from where she had sat down hours ago, waiting for the other lords to start trickling in.

She shot a look out of the corner of her towards Robb, noticing the worry in his eyes.

He seemed to feel her eyes on him and so his gaze flickered towards her for a moment, his eyes shooting her a small look concern.

She shifted in her seat, her eyes diverting from his, a lump forming in her throat.

Silence was good.

Silence she could deal with.

She did not know how long they continued to sit in silence for, only that when the other Lords came flooding through she could no longer feel her legs.

"Your grace—" Lord Bolton started.

"Silence," Robb commanded swiftly, standing, gesturing for them all to sit down.

They did quickly, sending tense glances towards each other.

Jon was not there.

The knowledge made the lump in her throat lessen, but not by much. Everra took two deep breaths, gaining her composure once more.

Weakness was not for this world.

Not for _her._

Robb placed his hands on the table as he opened his mouth to speak, his blue eyes haunted with the ghosts of the lives they may have just condemned, "It had recently come to my attention that Stannis has not—" His voice trailed off for a moment, his hands tightening into fists, "He is not laying siege on Kings Landing as we all though. He is instead laying siege upon RedRun instead."

The room immediately burst into whispers of astonishment and surprise, shock and curiosity apparent on all of their faces except one.

"Your grace," he called out, his voice drowned out by the increasing volume of the other Lords' whispers.

"Silence," Robb commanded, his steely blue eyes hardening at them all.

"Why?" Lord Bolton asked, sending a glance her way.

Robb eyes narrowed at him in confusion, sending a brief glance her way, "Why what?"

"Why attack RedRun?" Lord Bolton repeated. "I do not understand why he would do it. It does not make sense strategically or logically. Do not mistake me my lady, your castle is well known for its wealth and impenetrability but it is not heavily defended. Trying to lay siege on a barely defended castle does not show 'strength' it demonstrates stupidity. Stannis may be a fanatic but he is not an idiot. There must be more too it."

If a feather had floated onto the ground everyone in that tent would have heard it. The silence was almost deafening.

It may have been hard for Everra to admit, but he raised a valid point.

Robb seemed to think so too if the look he sent her way said anything, and so he opened his mouth to speak, "Whatever the reason, Lady Everra has assured me that she has left implicit instructions to those soldiers she left behind as to what to do if a scenario such as this may occur. I will leave it upon her council to discuss what to do to which then I will be informed and take action accordingly. I understand your concerns Lord Bolton, believe me I do, but we must focus on Casterly Rock. That— is what we must focus on at the moment unfortunately."

The man seemed to tempted to protest at Robb's answer, before calming down his face relaxing.

The Lords also seemed to be tempted to say something, before considering what Robb had said.

"Now then," Robb stated, clasping his hands together, "Casterly Rock."

* * *

"He raises a valuable point," Everra said hours later, when everyone had left.

Robb raised an eyebrow at her, pouring himself a glass of water.

He gestured towards another cup before Everra shook her head at him, declining.

"Indeed he did," Robb said carefully, his blue eyes conflicted, "Are you positive that not doing anything is the best action?"

Everra did not hesitate before answering, "Yes, I am sure."

"Doesn't make it any easier does it?" He asked.

She did not answer.

Robb sighed at her softly, before looking down at the map in front of him for a few moments, before his eyes glanced upwards to see Everra frowning intently, biting on her lower lip.

"Everra?" He asked, standing, "What is it?"

"Jon," she replied, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Robb's heart sunk in his chest and he almost doubled over as if someone had just punched him in the stomach.

"I'll tell him—" Robb started, placing his glass down.

"No," Everra said cutting him off, "I'll do it."

Robb looked at her, surprised, "Everra—"

"I owe it too him," She replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Robb nodded at her, though he could not deny the confusion he still felt.

He could not stop himself from placing his hand on her shoulder in comfort, watching her eyes lift to meet his. Her head almost titled to the side as she looked at him, before stepping away.

"I must consult with my council first," she said, all of the previous emotion in her voice gone.

"Everra—"

"Not now, your grace," She snapped, straightening her back before stalking out of the room, finally feeling as though she could breathe properly.

* * *

"I have summoned the both of you for something of the utmost secrecy," Everra started, clasping her hands together as she looked between Lord Edwin and Youngbird, judging their expressions.

"I have learnt that RedRun is being attacked by Stannis, _soon,_ as both of you are a part of my personal council and since the other members are at RedRun themselves, I felt as though you had the right too know. Young bird, of course, already informed me of Stannis's course of action."

Everra looked at him intently, trying to judge the look in his eyes. The shock was evident, the widening of his eyes was genuine and all the colour left his face.

"We need to warm them—" He started, standing from where he sat.

"Sit down Lord Edwin," Everra swiftly commanded, her voice hardening.

The older man stopped in his tracks, his eyes now widening with horror and not shock. He sat back down, his movements stiff, as if he could no longer comprehend his actions.

"We are going to warn them?" He asked, his voice breathless, "Right?"

The silence between the three of them was stiffening and settled over them like a noose around their necks.

"No," Everra eventually answered, "No we are not going to warn them."

"All those people—" Lord Edwin started, the horror in his voice evident.

"All those people," Everra snarled, her green eyes furious, "Are _my_ people. I would not simply get up and go off to war without preparing those I leave behind with a plan of action incase an event such as this happened."

Lord Edwins eyes bore into hers and when he spoke, the usual authoritative tone he used when he spoke had vanished, leaving only a small, ragged voice in its place, "You would let all of your people die—"

"Grow up," Everra snapped at him, "I have discussed with you in the past my plans in case something like this is to happen and I wad not there."

Lord Edwin seemingly tenses and relaxes at the same time, remembering their discussions, but unwilling to let go of his anger.

"The woman and children along with a few guards will take the path up to the blood mountains, the one we have been using for hundreds of years. "

Silence followed after her words, before a reluctant looking Youngbird asked, "My lady, forgive me, but what else?"

Everra contemplated this for a moment, before replying, "Wildfire."

Youngbird swallow loudly at this, his eyebrows narrowing, "How did you obtain—"

Everra raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was truly about to ask her that.

"They will attack and they will burn," Everra stated, the threat evident in her voice.

No remorse.

No pity.

No regrets.

And she will watch the world burn around her.

"What?" a voice asked from behind her.

Everra's heart dropped to her stomach at the sound of the voice, her hands tightening into fists as she turned around to face him, his brown eyes piercing into her green ones, hurt and betrayal evident in his face.

"Jon," she spoke softly yet firmly, taking a step forward.

He did not reply, instead he continued to stare at her.

"Leave us," she commanded, waiting until the two other men left.

When they did, after sending concerned glances her way she started, "Jon—"

"How?" He spat out at her, cutting her off, " _Why?_ Those are your people— my people— How—What kind of person would stand by and let their own people die?"

He paced around the tent furiously, his cheeks flushed with anger and the vein near is neck growing more and more evident by the second.

"Jon," Everra started once more, "It is a strategic decision, one that was made based on the outcome that would help us most during this war. The war which we are trying to win. Priorities must be made. It is what is needed to be done."

" _Anna is there!"_ He yelled, stopping his pacing to face her. "The woman that I love, that I plan on spending the rest of my life with is there. The woman whose mother died because of _your father._ Countless others have suffered the same fate because of _your_ father. Now, your just like him, letting them all die to serve your purpose."

Everra waited a few moments to watch the expression of horror enter his face and regret, watched as his mouth opened before closing stubbornly, clinging onto his rage.

"Jon," she said, softly, her frosty gaze piercing into his, "I understand your anger, but if you ever say something like that to me _ever again,_ if you _ever_ talk about my father to anyone ever again I will cut out your tongue, feed it too that bloody wolf of yours and then slit your throat, do you understand me?" She commanded.

"Yes, I understand," Jon muttered.

Andromache entered the tent behind Jon, strolling in peacefully. She walked up to Everra and started to put, rubbing her head against her thigh.

"Stop," Everra commanded, her gaze meeting Jon's once more. Andromache growled softly at her, before moving towards her bed, leaping onto the foot of it and curling into herself.

"Can I just ask you one question, my lady?" Jon asked, his voice small and his eyes avoiding hers, "Does Robb know?"

Everra stiffened at his words, her eyes flicking over his face before answering, "Yes."

He let out a bitter laugh at her response, before shaking his head, turning on his heal, and stalking out of the tent.

"Jon," she called out, speeding up to his retreating form, "Jon!"

She walked quickly, her eyes tracking his movements as he moved quickly towards the direction of Robb tent, his steps brisk, his back stiff with the rage evident on his face.

She did not yell out at him, instead quickening the movements of her legs, ignoring the curious glances sent her way.

"Jon!" She hissed at him when they came into sight of Robb's tent, but he made no sign of stopping, instead going faster towards it, disappearing behind the tents curtains with Everra at his heels.

Robb stood from his seat at the sight of them, confusion evident on his face, his mouth opening to address them, but before he could Jon stalked up to him and punched him. The sound echoed throughout the tent, Robb's head snapped towards the side, a red mark apparent on his face.

"You disgust me," Jon spat at him, taking a step back.

"Guards," Everra called, watching Jon with a feeling of. . . helplessness and acceptance. What they had done was unforgivable.

The guards burst into the tent, there swords drawn. At the sight of the three of them they all paled, their gazes turning towards Jon.

"Escort him to a cell," she commanded, "Leave him there for the night to calm down."

"Yes my lady," they responded, bowing their heads before stalking up to Jon, grasping his arms and forcing them behind his back.

Everra did not meet his eyes as they dragged him away.

Her eyes flickered towards Robb, who had begun to rub his hand over the mark on his cheek, his eyes downcast.

"You made the right choice," She states, her voice void of any emotion.

His eyes fly up to meet hers and for once the bitterness in them surprises her, though she does not let it show.

"My brother," he starts, frustration breaking through his voice, "Thinks that I am a monster."

"Aren't we all?" She retorts, 'We can not control what the world demands of us to survive Robb."

Robb lets out a small bitter laugh, his eyes flashing, "We all have a choice Everra, about the routes we take to become the men we wish to be. My father taught me a way, my mother taught me the same, and within the past few months of meeting you I. . . have disregarded their teachings. Turned into this person that—" His jaw locked with emotion as he spoke, "is the very thing that I set out to fight against when going to war."

His hand reaches up to brush through his hair, his lips twisting into a grimace as though he swallowed something bitter.

Everra watches him, comforting others is not her speciality. It is not something she knows how to do. Emotions are the one thing in her short years that she has not yet fully comprehended, as though she were still a child. Comforting others— truly wanting to comfort another person was not something she had ever desired to do. She still had no desire too but she knew she had to try.

"Your right," she says calmly, "We all have choices as to the routes we take to get where we are. The truth is, is that some have more freedom to chose who they desire to be. We are not those people. We are leaders. Leaders make choices, whining about them is not going to make them any less harder but as time goes on, it does get easier. What was once torture for you to decide turns into another daily decision. We do not have the freedom of the choice of being honourable. That is not a luxury we can afford. Your right, you have changed. I _have_ changed you. I have taught you how to survive in a world that has no place for honourable men. We make choices as to the leaders we want to be. I think you have the potential to be one of the greatest kings Westeros has ever seen. But you need to learn to let go of your self pity. You need to learn to be willing to do _anything_ for your people. I wouldn't have let Stannis attack RedRun if I thought that all my people would be slaughtered. There are no good guys Robb, it is time for you to accept that."

"Jon—"

"Will forgive you one day. You are family," she states, her green eyes meeting his blue ones, "You'll figure it out."

"Thats easy for you to say," Robb snaps at her, his hands flying away from his face, "You have no family."

Everra wished she could say that she felt hurt by his words, or offended. It would have been easier for _her._ But she did not. She felt no hurt. No pain. No betrayal. Nothing.

Robb's eyes widened at her, horror apparent on his face.

"I am sorry Everra I did not mean too—"

"Don't,'" she said sharply, raising a hand in a motion to halt his words, "No point in apologising for something that is true."

"Everra—"

"Stop."

Robb shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his eyes downcast in shame. Everra merely looked at him once more, an unfamiliar feeling rising in her throat, she opened her mouth to speak before quickly shutting it, turned on her heel, and walked away.

* * *

When she entered her tent once more, a peacefulness had settled inside her. A calmness that shook her, that suppressed anything she may have felt before. She removed her cloak, tossing it onto a chair and rubbed her neck, swallowing uncomfortably.

The calmness was slipping away. Piece by piece.

She let out a deep breathe, her heart beginning to thrum in her veins, the sound echoing in her ears.

 _You have no family._

 _What kind of person lets all of their people die?_

 _I did what is needed to be done._

She stumbled towards the table, trapping ahold of one of the glasses on the tray, her fists clenching as the words echo inside her, branding themselves into her very skin, into her nails, into her heart. Everywhere.

Her fists clenched tighter and tighter around the glass until eventually the emotions inside of her snapped.

She let out a small roar of anguish. throwing the glass across the room. The rage inside of her was unstoppable, the emotions were pouring out of her fingertips. One glass was thrown, then another and another until the tray was thrown with a clatter. When she was done, the anger rising in her throat, _burning_ her insides, she sank down onto the floor, banging her head against the back of the chair.

 _Oh how the mighty have fallen._

It took her a few moments to realise that the words had been spoken aloud.

Her head snapped forward, her eyes widening at the sight of _her._

The woman.

She stood, the rage thrumming underneath the surface, waiting to burst.

"What in the seven hells are you doing here?" She snarled, her hands curling into fists.

The woman took a wary step back, her eyes fluttering nervously.

"I am here to warn you of an unknown imminent threat—"

"Unknown imminent threat?" Everra scoffed, her voice laced with bitterness, "Why didn't you warn me about other imminent threats? Daavos, Stannis—"

"I am here to warn you about Stannis," the older woman pleaded, taking a step forward, "But you must collect yourself my lady, the rage you carry in your heart is dangerous to all of those around you, even more to yourself."

Though it may have pained Everra to admit it, the woman was right, and so she took three deep breaths, her composure slowly collecting itself, the mask she had firmly in place returning, until her eyes were void and unreadable, her face relaxed and calm.

"Speak," She commanded, her hands clasping together in front of her.

The older woman sighed softly, "There are powers that even I can not foresee my lady, a future, a betrayal. . . you must understand."

Everra frowned at her, her mouth opening, "Why is Stannis attacking RedRun?"

The older woman continued as though she had not heard her, "Someone with rage similar to yours, was left behind in your wake, as you left to travel the world. Someone's whose bitterness and hatred and coldness rivals yours, my lady. I did not see it before, but I see it now. He looked for someone to blame for his bitterness, for his loneliness and he blamed you. He hated you. He framed a family which you killed on your return home, The Blood Feast they call it throughout Westeros. Countless of times through your travels, he has sent many to kill you, to spy on you but you always outwitted him. I did not see it before, the Red Woman's magic is more powerful than I could ever have anticipated. He struck when war is apparent, side with Stannis, and he gets to see you fall. To see you shunned from society, deemed a traitor and a liar. Be burnt, be raped. He wants to see you fall."

"I am not a traitor," Everra says, her voice cold.

The older woman sighs at her, then speaks, "You once sent a chest to Magister Illyrio as an apology for refusing the elder Targaryens proposal, what you sent, gave Daenerys Targeryen the most powerful weapon in this entire war. Dragons. You once said that he proved his loyalty to you long ago, that you need not have him prove his loyalty to you once more. You made a mistake my lady, he has told Stannis everything there is to know about RedRun, all the passages, the wildfire you hold. Everything. Your people will die and you will fall. I discovered how the Young Wolfs face appeared on the shadow, the Red Woman needed the blood and the hair of the man whose shadow she births. Surprisingly enough, that is easy for a lower lord to obtain unnoticed. He expected you to die then. But you didn't. Though now he has all he needs to bring your downfall, you allowed a servant, your handmaiden, to kill one of your most popular knights—"

"Anna is involved?" Everra asks, somehow surprised, "How—"

"You must move," The older woman pleads, "And you must move quickly."

"Lord Edwin has summoned his grace to reveal all of your secrets, he knows the truth about this. He needs to be stopped, before it is too late."

* * *

"Lord Edwin," Robb starts, looking up from his papers to look at the older man.

He did not know him well, they had barely spoken but he knew that he was apart of Everra's private council. At the thought of her name, Robb almost winces in shame. He could not believe he had not stopped her from leaving, the _helplessness_ he felt. He could have almost shivered.

"A pleasure to finally get to talk to you," he says, standing to greet the older man.

Lord Edwin nods at this, returning the sentiment and though Robb does not know, he has this weird sense that something is not quite right. The look in the older mans eyes reminded him of the look in Everra's, cold and calculating but something was different in his, while Everra's was cold they were never. . . He did not know how to word it, but there was a difference and it unnerved him.

"Your grace," he starts, "The information I bring you today is not something I take lightly."

Robb tries to hide his confusion, masking it by taking a sip of his water, eyeing the older man carefully.

"It is about Lady Everra."

Robb stiffens at the mention of her name, mistrust flaring in his veins but he is careful not to let it show.

"I know that the two of you have grown. . . _close,_ your grace," The man continues, "Believe me I was shocked when I discovered. . ."

"When you discovered what?" Robb demands, his blue eyes turning stormy.

"My lady's secrets."

Robb's hands tighten into fists, and as he speaks he makes sure to keep his voice even, calm, "What secrets do you speak of?"

"You and Lady Everra share a brother in Jon Snow."

Robb blinks once, twice, trying to hide his disbelief, "That is a lie—"

"Your grace forgive me but it is not," Lord Edwin says, "Her mother gave birth to him during the war, your father and her mother had a love affair and when the war was over your father returned home with the baby and her mother was married to Lady Everra's father. Her mother committed suicide when Lady Everra was four. I believe that she has a vendetta against you your grace."

Robb looks down at his hands, which have begun to shake, "How—uh," he clears his throat. trying to keep a hold of his emotions, "Why do you suspect this?"

"She has consulted with dark forces in an attempt to gain your trust, your grace, she has only been helping you as a result of her true loyalties orders."

Robb's face snaps up at his words, his blue eyes clashing with his, "And who is that?"

The older man shifts in his seat and clears his throat, "Daenerys Targeryen your grace. When she was still in Essos she was asked by the elder Targeryen to marry, she refused however, she was the one who supplied Daenerys with her dragons in an attempt to gain her trust. All of her actions have been to try to eliminate any other threat to the iron throne so when her queen comes, there is nothing standing in her way."

Robb gulps loudly, his disbelief still thrumming in his veins, but there is one question that is eating at him, "Why?"

The older man frowns at him and tilts his head, "Why what, your grace?"

'Why are you telling me this? What do you wish to gain?"

The older man frowns slightly for a moment, something flashing in his eyes before he states, 'I have always admired your family, your grace, I began to distrust the Legrath family since Lady Everra's father took power.'

Robb eyes him carefully, trying to judge what the man in front of him is thinking "And as to what you wish to gain?"

"RedRun, your grace," Lord Edwin replies.

"Is there anything else you wish to reveal?" Robb asks, standing from his seat.

"Yes," Lord Edwin replies, "Lady Everra killed her own father."

Robb freezes at his words, his head snapping to the side to stare at the older man, discomfort pumping through his body, "How do you know that?'

The older man freezes, slightly, his eyes flashing, "I have had my suspicions for a long time your grace, but I wish to divulge my knowledge to the rest of the council at RedRun, with your permission of course, your grace," Lord Edwin adds, clasping his hands together.

Robb nods at him, decided and watches as the older man stands, and listens numbly as he speaks, "I am glad that we are finally ridding ourselves of such a family your grace."

His words unleash something within Robb and so he eyes him carefully, his words echoing in his mind.

 _Finally ridding ourselves. . ._

 _Suspicions for a long time. . ._

"Lord Edwin," Robb says, decided, "I'm afraid I can not let you do that."

The older man freezes, the colour leaving his face. "Your grace what—"

Robb moves so fast the older man could have never saw him coming, and before Robb can fully comprehend his actions there is a slit in the older mans throat, and he watches numbly as he sinks to his knees, Lord Edwins eyes large with surprise. Blood begins to drip out of his lip and Robb feels all his emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

Robb does not speak as he watches the life slowly leave the mans body, as the blood drains out of him and does not even realise that he dropped the bloody knife onto the ground. Numbness crept through his veins, hardening his heart as he realised that Everra was right.

They all made choices as to the people they wished to be.

He had just made his.

* * *

When Everra eventually reached Robb's tent, the two guards outside looked at her and moved to block the entrance, "Apologies my lady, but his grace and Lord Edwin are in the middle of a meeting."

Everra's heart dropped in her chest, and her lips went dry, yet she kept her composure and commanded, "I understand, yet the matter I wish to discuss with his grace is urgent, I would not interrupt this meeting otherwise."

The two guards share a contemplative look, before nodding and stepping aside.

Everra took a deep breath and stepped forward into the tent, preparing herself for the worst.

What she saw. . . . surprised her. Challenged her.

Lord Edwin was on the ground dead, his throat slit but more importantly, Robb was standing above him, his face downcast, and his hands shaking.

He had not yet realised she was there.

Everra took one step back, snapping into action.

She ignored the surprised look of the guards as she snarled, "You do no let anyone come in this tent until I say so, understood? You do not breathe a word of anything you might see to _anyone_ is that clear? If I hear even a whisper of anything that happened tonight I will make sure that you and all of your loved ones die the most painful death imaginable, do I make myself clear?"

They nodded at her, fear evident on their faces.

She nodded at them and re-entered the tent, to the same sight.

Robb had not moved a muscle.

She took a few steps forward, her mouth twisting at the sight, her voice gentle as she spoke, "Robb?"

He made no sign of hearing her and so she walked up to him, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Robb," she whispered.

He glanced at her, his eyes wide with horror and yanked himself away from her, the horror in his eyes being replaced with rage.

"You _lied to me_!" He yelled, his eyes wide.

She looked at him calmly, trying to plead with him with her eyes, trying to make him understand, "Robb let me explain—"

"Did you know that my father was going to die? That my brother was going to be crippled? that my family was going to be torn apart?" He snarled, his voice rising with the power of his fury.

"Yes, I did but it was not that simple—"

"Not that simple?" He asked, bitterness spitting out of his mouth, "You had the choice to stop this, to make sure that this war never even started and you chose not too. Too fucking serve your own purpose!"

"I made those choices to make sure that you became King!" She shouted back, "That the Lannister did not win! You would have gone to war regardless of whether or not I existed, except this time around you and your family would have been butchered!"

Robb scoffs at her, his hand slamming down on the table, "And why in all the hells should I believe you? You killed the only family you had. You have no understanding of what it means to be _human._ Fuck, we even share the same brother. You didn't tell me."

Everra simply watched, letting him rage on.

"Robb—"

"Do not call me that," he spat at her, "Do not fucking dare."

They glared at each other for a while, the tension between them growing until the air was so thick they could hardly breathe, "I am so _angry_ with you. I could—" Robb stops, his voice breaking.

"Robb you need to calm down so we can get rid of the body—"

"Do not tell me what I should or should not do!" He yells, tossing the tray on his desk to the side with a loud clatter.

She stared at him, her green eyes glinting with anger as well now.

"Stop acting like a child," she snarled at him.

Robb scoffed at her her, his eyes full with bitterness.

"No, _this,"_ he says, " Is childish."

Then he stalked right up to her and kissed her with all his might.

Unlike the other one, which was filled with passion yet had been gentle, this one was filled with their rage, his hurt, her frustration, the air was burning around them, making it hard to breathe but gods be damned Robb did not care.

They stumbled backwards, their mouths tied together furiously, neither willing to admit defeat as they continued on, their passion making their blood boil, neither knowing whose limbs where whose as her hands lifted up to sink themselves in his curls.

Everra suddenly felt the back of the table against her back, the force of the collision breaking their lips apart.

They stared at each other panting, the weight of their decision beginning to dawn on them as the moments passed.

Robb surged forward, eager to recapture her lips as she pressed a hand on his chest, stopping him.

She glanced down at his swollen lips, before her gaze flickered back up to his eyes, and watched as he raised an eyebrow at her, as if to ask her _really?_

She shook her head and leaned forward, recapturing his lips with her own, letting her hands wonder around his chest and up to his curls and tugged at them, listening to him let out a small groan.

Their lips broke apart as Robb placed opened mouth kisses on her neck as he hosted her up onto the table, his hands wondering to the back of her dress.

She pulled back from him slightly, their eyes meeting. They were both angry with each other, one hurt and the other to blame, if they did this. . . it could ruin everything. It _would_ ruin everything. This was impulsive and though Everra knew she needed to regain his trust, she briefly wondered if this was the way.

"Do you want too—"

She cut off his words by kissing him on the mouth harshly.

There was no talking after that.

 **A/N. . . . .** Surprise? This chapter was so hard to write guys. . . I hope you enjoyed this. The characters make many questionable decisions this chapter and I hope it felt 'natural' to you, I debated for a while whether or not Robb and Everra should have a . . . relationship. Tell me, do you guys think Everra is only doing this to regain his trust or because she genuinely has feeling for Robb? AND OMG WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK OF THE REVEAL THAT LORD EDWIN IS- WAS RIP— A TRAITOR? I wanted to kind of have Everra's world and her relationships be shaken a little bit. I know that its been a while and i'm sorry for that guys. But the world (AKA Optics) demands my attention. I also listened to some of your questions last chapter as to why Stannis attacked RedRun and had some of the characters voice them as I realised that you guys raised a valid point. Sometimes authors make decisions based on what serves them best for their story and not whether or not it is something a character would actually do. Sorry about that, I'm still learning from my mistakes. Love you guys, all of you are so amazing. Remember to review! Until next time, whenever that may be, FionaKevin073 :)


	32. Chapter 29: Fallen

Chapter 29

When Robb finishes, he rolls off of her, panting, sweat dribbling down his face. The floor beneath him is uncomfortable and for a moment Robb briefly wonders as to how they managed to end up on the floor. He can hear her breathing beside him, and though he is tempted to turn on his side and look at her, he does not.

The rage has not fully left him yet, the hurt still lingering in his heart and a part of him is still in shock.

For what he is not sure.

Her betrayal, his actions. . . or _this._

He wondered what _this_ was, was it a brief moment of lust? A mistake— that it was surely, but somehow Robb can't— _Can't what?_ He asks himself, _she has been playing you this whole time._

He can feel her shift beside him, can feel her bare flesh brush against his and pretends not to feel goosebumps rise in their wake. He can not resist the temptation and glances at her.

She is staring at the ceiling, her green eyes calm and unreadable, her chest rising up and down, her hair tumbling down her shoulders, in a slight mess from where he had—

Shame trickles through Robb as he glances down her body and takes note of the small bruises littered across her chest, the fading marks of his hands on her hips, her lips slightly swollen. But that is when he glances down his body and notices the scratches down his chest and the slight sting on his back, can practically feel the loopsididness of his curls from where she had tugged at them.

Robb gulped.

It had been angry and rough, lacking any elegance or remote sign of affection if not for the kisses they had shared.

It had been a demonstration of lust.

And anger.

And hurt.

He had dishonoured her.

Robb can not help but glance at her thighs and frowns at the sight of her smooth, pale skin, free of blood.

He then glances around the room, feeling as though a boulder had just been thrown at his shoulders, and nearly shudders at the sight of Lord Edwin's corpse laying only a few feet by.

 _How had they not noticed?_

He glances around the room, taking note of his clothes disregarded in random places throughout the tent, the sight of her dress and undergarments lying in a pool by the table and snorts.

He can feel her glance at him, can practically hear her mind wheeling and he feels the anger return beneath his skin, but this time not only for her but at himselfas well.

 _You just couldn't control yourself, could you?_ He asks himself bitterly.

But he is not only to blame for this. . . and right now it seems awfully easier to blame someone other than himself.

He lays back down on his back, closing his eyes tightly and sighing, raising a hand to lay itself in his curls.

He feels her shift against him once more, but before he can muster the courage to speak he feels her sit up and watches her raven hair tumble down her shoulders, covering her back.

Robb absentmindedly raised his hand onto her lower back, appreciating the smoothness of her skin under his.

He can feel the _fire_ stirring within him once more and he hates himself for it.

She stands abruptly, leaving Robb by his self on the floor, watching her.

She moves normally, as though she is not standing naked as the day she was born in front of her, and bends down to reach for her underdress and slips it on, covering the bare skin that Robb was trying very hard not to stare at.

"This never happened," she says, breaking the silence. Her voice is cold— though this is no longer new too Robb, it sparks something inside of him.

"Hmm?" Robb replies, standing as well, and walked over to her, so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck as he spoke.

She shook her head and took another step forward as to reach for her dress, and tugged it over her shoulders, and smoothed the creases with her hands. Robb was still watching, bare and naked, making no move to dress himself.

 _What are you doing?_ He yells at himself internally.

He knows what he is doing.

He is distracting himself, because the distraction is better than facing the truth.

The truth is something that could— that _would_ change everything and he wished he could say that he hated her, but he doesn't.

And a part of him hates himself because of it.

"Stop," she snaps softly, about to move away from him before Robb quickly wraps an arm around her stomach, bringing her against his back.

They are both silent for a moment, only their breaths filling the air, before Everra breaks it, "We need to get rid of the body."

At the mention of Lord Edwin, Robb stiffens and lets go of her, walking around to reach his breeches. He tugs them on, his eyes scanning the room for his belt.

"Here," Everra says, passing him his belt.

He doesn't thank her.

He dresses himself quickly, snapping himself out of the reverie he was in.

When he finishes he turns around to find her staring at the corpse intently, a small crease appearing in between her eyebrows.

"What is it?" he snaps at her, his voice harsher than he thought capable.

She does not seem to notice— or care and merely glances in his direction.

"I am wondering as to how we are to get rid of the body— or better yet what excuse we will have."

Robb nods slightly, a wave of guilt coming over him as he glances towards the corpse, and he feels anger rise within him and this time there is none directed towards himself but _at her._ For turning him into _this person._ Someone whose father would not be able to look in the eye. A person who protects someone who— who _lied to him._

"We tell them that I found some letters of him conversing with Stannis, that proved he was in league with him and planned to betray you," he hears her comment, taking a few steps closer towards the body, "he reacted angrily, and you feared for your life, and so you killed him. They won't think your lying—"

"But I am," he cuts her off bitterly, his eyes flashing at her, "I am lying for _you._ My brothers sister."

 _Whom he. . . ._

He see's her stiffen at his words, her sharp green eyes narrowing at him, "Half sibling, same as you."

There is silence between them for a moment, a brief moment of tension before a look seemingly akin to vulnerability appears in her eyes, "Robb," she says softly, "Don't tell him."

His head snaps towards her, his blue eyes widening, "It would—" for the first time since he's met her she's stumbling over her words, "Change everything. He's not ready."

Robb scoffs at her words, unable to believe how he had once _trusted_ before he hears her plead, "Robb please if you love your brother as much as I know you love your other siblings you won't tell him, if you want _any_ chance of him forgiving you, you won't. No matter how angry you are with me."

Robb is shocked at her words, at her _desperation,_ it is something he has never seen from her before, yet it is still guarded, still _contained_ inside of her, all of this emotion that he was once so sure she felt as well.

It's funny how things change.

Yet, he still nods at her and watches as she closes her eyes —in relief?— and reopens them, the usual blank look in her eyes reappearing.

"We should summon the other lords," Robb says, his voice gruff and he turns away from her, his shoulders tense.

"Your grace—" she starts and then stops at the sound of Robb's snort of disbelief.

"I was inside you not only an hour ago and you want to go back to such formalities?' he asks her, his voice laced with bitterness.

He knows he is being childish and rude but by all the gods he is _angry and hurt_ and though he hates to admit it he is jealous that she could never show that kind of desperation for him.

He feels her tense behind him but other than that, there is no reaction only her coldness radiating off her in waves.

"I know your angry—"

"Angry does not quite cover it," Robb snaps, running a hand over his face.

She sighs and it sounds as though she is growing impatient, like she is dealing with a child, "I did what I had to do."

"You know," Robb says, turning on his heel to glare at her, "You always say that, as if it makes everything better, as if it _excuses_ every single horrible thing that you do, but it _doesn't!_ It only makes it worse, that your hiding under a sentence to excuse the person you are. I bet that you don't even think that what you did— letting my brother become a cripple, sentencing my father a good and honourable man to die and thousands upon thousands of others, simply because you wanted a little more power! But hey, you did what you had to do right?"

Robb does not look at her after he finishes his ranting, letting out a breath.

"Are you even sorry?" he asks her after a while.

He can hear her shift on her feet, a small breath leaving her mouth an then the word slips out, the word that ruins _everything_ "No."

He laughs.

He can not prevent it from escaping his mouth, filling the room.

"You would die," she says, her voice somehow different from how it usually sounded, more _raw_ , "You would have fallen in love and then you married her and it cost you the war, though you didn't live long enough to see that. You went to the wedding of your uncle Edmure, to a Frey girl whom was surprisingly quite beautiful and then you, your mother, your pregnant wife whom you loved and your army were slaughtered by the Frey's and a knife was shoved in your heart by Lord Bolton. They then tossed your mothers body into the river and sowed Greywind's head onto your body and yelled, 'The King in the North, the King in the North'. But then again, everything that happened in that life is quite different from what has happened in this one because _I_ made sure of it. So no, I'm not sorry for preventing all of that from happening. I do what is best for _my people_ regardless of others people pain. You should have known that by now."

Robb froze for a moment, the rage in his veins cooling but not vanishing and he could not fathom a reply.

"Lord Bolton?' he asks, mistrust flaring.

Her eyes meet his and somehow he _knows_ that she is not lying.

"He didn't believe you would win," she answers, "And no one wants to be on the losing side."

He couldn't breathe because of the weight that had suddenly been thrust onto his chest, as though something was dragging him down under the ground and he can imagine it now— can feel the pain strike near his heart as he hears, 'the Lannister's send their regards'.

"Robb?" he hears her ask, and then he can feel her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm okay," he breathes.

She lets her hand linger on his shoulder for a moment— a moment too long— and then removes it, letting it hang at her side.

His eyes lock in a gaze with hers and though he doesn't forgive her— he can't— he does know that she is not lying.

"Let me call the guards," he says, but before he can move she stops him.

"Everra—"

She bends down on the ground, clutching the bloody knife in her hands and gestures to his hand, "We need to make it look as though there were a fight."

He nods at her, giving her his palm and watches as she cuts him, blood pouring out of the wound.

She then dips a finger in it, and smears it down the side of her dress and then a little bit on the sleeves of his shirt.

She hands him the knife and Robb takes it, watching as she kneels down beside the corpse, pressing her hands against the wound on his neck as if to try to stop the bleeding.

"Everra?" Robb asks, confused.

She ignores him for a few moments, and then rises, wiping some of the blood on the bottom of her chin. Everra tilts her head as she looks at the corpse once more, frowning, and Robb wonders for the thousandth time what she is thinking.

"We need to make the death look instantaneous," she says.

Robb frowned at her and replied, "It _was_ instantaneous."

She rolls her eyes at him and snatches the knife back out of his hands, kneeling on the ground once more. Without hesitating she continues to slit the mans throat, watching calmly as more blood pours out onto the floor.

She shoves the knife in his hands, gives him a searching look, and then punches him in the gut and throws herself onto the floor yelling, "Guards!"

They run in as if on cue, and Robb must look as though he does not understand what happened from where he had fallen onto the floor.

"Your grace!" They exclaimed loudly, rushing to him, "Your palm."

Robb shoots them a look but thanks them, standing shakily, feeling as though he is can not properly stand on his legs. By this point the guards were helping Lady Everra up, whom played the shocked witness of a murder quite well.

 _Why was he surprised? She played him._

By this point other people had rushed into the tent and he was unnerved at the sight of Roose Bolton at the entrance of the tent, rushing towards him, "Your grace what happened?"

But before he can answer Everra cuts in her voice slightly breathless, "I was recently informed that Lord Edwin had been feeding Stannis Baratheon information so I ran to tell his grace. Lord Edwin was already there however, and a fight ensued after my arrival. His grace had no choice but do defend me and himself from our attacker."

"The guards did not hear a thing?" Lord Bolton asks, his blue eyes flickering in between them both.

"I had allowed them to take a break from their posts after Lord Edwin entered my tent," Robb cuts in smoothly, maintaining eye contact with Lord Bolton, "I had not thought that I needed to be protected from Lord Edwin. I was wrong."

Lord Bolton nods at his words, his suspicion carefully masked.

Robb feels something tug at his gut as he realised that he didn't have anyone he trusted.

Not anymore, anyway.

"Robb!" he hears his mother yell and feels so completely and utterly relieved at the reminder that there is at least one person in this whole mess that he _can_ trust. Even if he forgets sometimes.

Catelyn stops in front of him, her blue eyes wide— both with panic and fear. Her hair is disheveled and the sleeves of her dress rolled up to her elbows, before she tugs them down, her eyes scanning all over his body.

She frowns at the sight of his blood stained clothes, and his bleeding hand. She must see something in his eyes, in his expression that tells her— no matter how hard he tries to mask it— that something is wrong. Horribly wrong.

"My son needs to be treated," she calls out, everyone in the room growing silent at the sound of her voice, "Bring someone to treat him."

A guard nods at her words, bowing respectfully, and mutters, "Immediately, my lady."

Her eyes then drift towards Everra, her eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of blood on her as well. Robb feels a pang in his chest as he realises that his mother was right all along— he couldn't trust Everra. He never could have, but he still believes her, somehow. Her words.

"Everyone leave please," his mother commands, her back straightening.

Lord Bolton and Everra send her a look, one of which he is not sure of, before they all nod and slowly walk out, a guard escorting Everra back to her tent.

The moment the last person is out of the tent, leaving just the two them, she rushes up to him and hugs him tightly, her arms tightening around the back of his neck. He buries his head against her shoulder and murmurs, "Mother."

She rubs his back comfortingly but does not respond to his plea, simply choosing to stay quiet.

She draws away from him at the sound of the guard returning with the healer, and simply walks towards them, gesturing for the healer to give her the needle and cloth she had come with.

"Thank you," Catelyn says before adding, "You are both dismissed."

Robb can hear them walk out of the room, but his eyes drifted across the floor to the large red stain on the floor and he almost cringes at the feeling of his victims blood on him, and he feels so disgusted _disgusted_ with himself he feels like sinking into the floor.

How could he look his mother in the eye after what he had done? He is no longer the son she had raised, with honour and dignity and _integrity._ He is none of that anymore.

 _By the old gods and the new what I have done?_

He feels his mothers hand tilt his chin upwards to dab at the blood, wiping it off his skin. She stops for a moment, and guides him towards a chair, pushing down on his shoulders gently to get him to sit down.

He glances down at his lap, lacing his fingers together and dwindling them, the emotion in his throat overwhelming.

"What happened?' she asks after a while, continuing to wipe the cloth against Robb's skin. Robb stiffens at her question, not in the mood to talk about it.

"You heard what happened mother," he replies softly, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"I heard what happened from _her_ perspective," his mother replies, dropping the cloth from his face and gently grabbing a hold of his hand, wringing the wet cloth before gently wrapping it around his palm. The blood began to soak into it almost immediately.

"Did Lord Edwin really betray you?" she asks gently.

"He betrayed someone," Robb answers shortly, "And he would have thrown our whole camp into chaos, mother. I couldn't— let that— I did what I—"

"Shh," she whispers gently, "I know Robb, you are a King now. That is a responsibility that will never be put on my shoulders. But I know in my heart that you will be a great king, whom will do the most he can for his people. Who will set an example for all the other leaders in Westeros. Show them that not all honourable men are gone."

She smiles at him, her blue eyes fierce, and she squeezes his other uninjured hand and speaks, "I am so proud of you."

Robb's heart sinks in his chest.

He now was forever truly fallen.

 **A/N ok guys so nothing big happens in this chapter but I feel as though this was necessary for the development of Robbs character in this story. I am well aware that 'my' Robb and the show/book Robb are quite different, I mean at least i think they are. Blood must have blood Robb is darker, more conflicted about which road is the right one, and is right now, lost. He feels as though he has lost himself, his families trust, and no longer trusts his closest advisor and learns that she had the power to stop most of his families struggle. That changes people and I hope that I managed to portray that effectively. I didn't want him to be 'whiny' and I hoped that he did not come off that way, but I feel as though he is struggling with the kind of man he wants/ has to be. He is a King now, a king fighting a war and on one side he has Everra telling him to be darker, less attached, how to survive in a world, which to be honest, has no place for men such as his father. Which is what got Ned killed. Robb has a hard time accepting that as it is what he grew up knowing. What he was told as a child was right and now he has lost all of that. Ok now I've written a whole essay. Perfect :). Thanks for the response to last chapter guys, it means so much to be! Remember to Review :)**


	33. Chapter 30: The Art of Unnamed Queens

**Warning, there is some sensitive material in this chapter that may offend/bother people.**

 **Carry on :)**

Chapter 30

Lust was a powerful thing.

It could wreck marriages, ruin friendships and most of all, consume those who felt it.

Lust was a representation of weakness— of ones soul— in particular and more often in men.

The amount of times Everra had seen men— married, widowed, unmarried— fall under lusts spell had gradually turned into a daily occurrence and she had felt tempted to laugh at their stupidity— at their _idiocy_ because couldn't they see? Lust ruins.

She had trained herself to smother any of her emotions— to think with her head and not her heart— to train herself against any sort of desire that could bring about her destruction. She had been doing that ever since she was left motherless.

That is why, thirteen years later, in a middle of war she is completely and utterly furious with herself.

Desire kills, she repeated to herself, desire has no place for people like her.

 _But that obviously wasn't true? Was it?_ she asked herself furiously, pacing up and down her tent, _you fool._

She stops in her tracks, a coldness seeping upon her skin, fear crawling up her spine as she places a hand on her lower stomach and glances down.

 _Damn you Edwin._

How had she not known? Not noticed? She relied on the fact that he was in love with her mother as proof of his loyalty. Hell, he had even helped her murder her father and frame someone else for the crime. How had she not even suspected his betrayal? His framing of Lord Gilbert and his family?

Not that she felt sorry for killing them, it would have happened sooner or later. Everra can feel Lady Gilbert's blood under fingertips, can feel her knife stabbing into her neck and feels nothing except anger of not having killed Lord Edwin as well.

But then her thoughts come to a screeching halt as her hands rubs her stomach, and she can feel feel her legs begin to ache, a rare fear creeping up her spine.

"Oh," she whispers softly, drumming her fingers against her stomach.

It had only been a few hours. . . .

But still, Everra could not help the bile suddenly rising in the back of her throat, her heart pounding against her chest.

 _What have I done?_ she thought, sitting down.

Everra vowed to herself in that moment that she would wait a few days before going to a Maester, in order to avoid suspicion. . . But what was she supposed to say? Are there any 'remedies' you can give me to end a pregnancy? That would raise too much suspicion, though she could threaten them. . . That wasn't good enough. Her reputation was at stake due to a mistake she had made.

Once.

Everything she had worked _so hard_ for, would be for nought.

Because of—

Everra felt the anger within her threaten to break through the surface, she felt a savage urge to throw something or break something, if only to vent out her frustrations and anger.

 _Youngbird could be sent. . ._

She quickly dismissed the idea from her head, there would be too many questions asked, too much suspicion, the healer would quickly deduce whom it was for. If she went around killing healers and Maester's it would draw to much attention and that would mean someone would go looking for answers.

Not only did she have this. . . . _problem_ to worry about, but now she had to plan a way to get her home back. She expected a raven would arrive at any moment from Redrun, imploring her for her help.

 _We don't know how they knew about the passages_ it would say and Everra felt anger coil in her stomach at the thought of how cheated she was.

By both Edwin and Anna.

Everra frowned at the latter's name in her head, drumming her fingers in thought.

Jon would never forgive her if she had her killed. Never. She knew this.

Yet in that moment, she did not care.

All sympathy she might have had for the girl vanished with a flick of her hand, a cold anger she had not felt in years erupting in her veins.

If there was anything Everra hated more in this world it was traitors, especially those she had once helped.

Jon would simply have to learn to forgive her.

Everra reached for some parchment nearby, grabbed a hold of a quill and began to write.

 _I, Lady Everra Legrath, Head of the Legrath House and Leader of the Bloodlands, do nearby command the execution of the traitor Anna Riche, my former handmaiden. She is to be executed by beheading immediately and without question. The head of the course should be stuck on a spike as typical of traitors within my household._

She then signed the letter and sealed it, her hands moving swiftly and without hesitation. She would show no mercy to traitors, regardless of the 'relationship' she once had with them.

She sunk back into her chair, her eyes landing on the small, folded piece of paper.

 _Like mother, like daughter,_ she mused, linking her hands together.

The irony of it almost amused her. Her father had Anna's mother killed and now she was doing the same to her daughter. Though at least she was justified in her command, her father had been a blood thirsty madman.

 _Or perhaps it should be like father like daughter?_ She thought, a rare bitter smile appearing on her lips.

After all, madness seemed to run in the family.

* * *

When the sun rose the following morning, Everra peered up from where she lay on her bed, rubbing at her eyes before sliding out of bed, Andromache purring in protest.

She quickly slipped out of her nightgown, and reached for another dress, slipping it over her shoulders. She ran a brush through her long raven locks carelessly, trying to slip on her shoes at the same time.

The moment she put down her brush, a frantic voice called out to her from outside the tent, "My lady!" Young bird called, "We have received a raven from RedRun."

"Come in!" Everra called back, rushing forward to meet Youngbird and snatched the letter from his hands.

She ripped open the seal, her heart beginning to pound faster in her chest as she read its contents.

As she expected, it detailed their confusion of Stannis's knowledge of RedRun and implored her to send some men to the rescue. It detailed where precisely Stannis was and her skin grew cold as they admitted they wouldn't be able to last longer than a few weeks. She re read it a few more times, before becoming aware of Youngbird staring patiently at her.

"Young bird," she commanded, her eyes snapping up from the paper, "Release Jon from his cell and bring him to his grace's council meeting." Young bird nodded at her and just as he turned on his heel to move away she added, "You will join as well."

He paused in his steps before turning to address her once more, "Yes, my lady."

He then left the tent, his footsteps quickening. Everra calmly folded her hands together before casting a look at Andromache, whom was still perched on the bed.

"Lucky you," she muttered, gripping the letter tightly in her palm.

She then called in one of the guards standing outside her tent and instructed him to carry a heavy chest to his grace's tent.

* * *

When the pair arrived outside Robb's tent, she paused outside the tent for a moment and addressed the guards, "Is his grace ready for visitors?"

The guards— she noticed they were the same ones from yesterday— looked at her warily before nodding, with one of them muttering, "Yes indeed my lady, he mentioned that he expected you would be visiting him shortly."

Everra froze at their words for a split second, before quickly regaining her aloof composure.

"Wasn't that nice of him," she muttered under her breath.

She motioned with her hands for the guard to enter the tent, following behind him.

Everra briefly wonders as to what to expect from him. How do they move forward from this— he knows the truth now. Perhaps not the whole truth but the truth nonetheless. He was angry with her fro it, rightfully so she supposed. But this was not the time for petty thoughts.

She nearly did a double take at the sight of Lady Catelyn watching her from beside Robb. Everra had known they looked alike beforehand, but now with them both looking at her seriously, their matching blue eyes narrowed in distrust, Everra was slightly unnerved, but was careful not to show it.

"Your grace," she says to Robb, her voice even and formal.

She curtsied quickly, watching as the guard quickly placed the chest onto the table and hurried out of the tent.

"Lady Catelyn," she then acknowledged, nodding her head at the older woman, who returned the sentiment.

Robb did not speak too her.

"Lady Everra," Catelyn stated, motioning her to take a seat at the long table, "I understand we have a battle to plan. Quickly if I might add. The other Lords shall be joining us shortly I presume."

Everra eyed her for a moment, before quickly sitting down, choosing not to ask questions.

Robb had not looked at her since she had acknowledged his presence.

Time seemed to go by slowly, the silence becoming so thick it became hard for Everra to breathe properly, the tension building with each passing moment.

 _Did she know?_ Everra thought but then quickly dismissed the idea. If Catelyn Stark did know of her and Robb's. . . indiscretion she would have not been quiet about it. Everra suspected she would have made much more of a scene if she had known.

"I received a raven from RedRun," Everra stated, turning to head to look at the two of them, "They won't be able to prevent Stannis from sieging RedRun for at least another few weeks. All Stannis has to do is wait them out. Their scouts say they have men in the Blood Mountains which is where one of the passages leads. I believe that this may be an opportunity to eliminate Stannis."

Catelyn shot a quick glance at Robb, whom was at least facing her direction but was determinedly not looking at her.

"If we eliminate Stannis there will be no one else to claim the Iron throne," Catelyn started, her eyes started to gleam suspiciously as she looked at her, "Unless you wish to—"

"No," Everra interrupted firmly, "I have no desire to sit on the Iron throne."

Silence followed after her words.

"According to the late Lord Edwin you know someone who does desire the Iron throne."

It was the first thing Robb had said to her all morning. He still did not look at her.

She was aware of Catelyn glancing at her curiously, with the older woman demanding, " Who?"

"Daenerys Targaryen," she stated, staring her in the eye.

Catelyn visibly swallowed before regaining her composure, "Is it true she has three dragons?"

Robb snorted loudly, bitterness sketched onto his face, making him look older than his years, "She was the one who gave them to her."

Everra glared at Robb from across the table, fury boiling in her veins, "I gave them to a Magister who in turn gave them to her as a wedding gift. I indirectly gave them to her."

"Why did you give him such a possession?" Catelyn asked, struggling to hide her shock.

"To apologise for rejecting Viserys Targaryen's marriage proposal," She replied flippantly, her gaze still focused intently on Robb.

"Did you not deem this piece of information important enough to inform us?" Catelyn asked coldly.

"You never asked about my travels in Essos my lady," Everra retorted, her eyes leaving Robb's face for a brief moment to glance at her.

"This is not just an offhand piece of information—"

"She did not know mother, that she would be supplying a seeker of the Iron Throne with dragons," Robb said, cutting her off before glancing at her for a brief moment, their eyes connecting.

They seemed to glare accusingly at her, seemingly asking her _Or perhaps you did know?_

"Your demonstration of forgiveness your grace is truly appreciated," She said, knowing the words would sting.

The reaction was obvious. Robb's head snapped up to look at her, his blue eyes glaring at her furiously, with an anger that Everra had not known Robb to be capable of. It was even worse than how he had looked when confronting her the day before.

Catelyn noticed the change as well, her eyes darting back and forth between the two.

"Robb," she murmured, inching closer to him, "You need too—"

She was cut off by the sound of two people entering the tent and the fury on Robb's face suddenly evaporated, replaced by a cool, aloof mask like her own. She watched as his rose from his chair and titled her head to get a glance of the two people who had entered the tent.

It was Jon and Youngbird.

Jon was shifting warily on his feet, glancing up at Robb every once in a while. Everra tensed at the interaction and before she fully comprehended what she was doing she rose from her seat, though she did not move forward to greet the pair.

"You calm now?" Robb asked, addressing Jon.

Jon nodded at his words, his cheeks flushing as he murmured, "Sorry I punched you."

And then as an after thought he added, "Your grace."

Robb let out a small chuckle at his words and replied— almost cheerfully— "Not to worry brother, it didn't even bruise."

Everra could see Catelyn withdraw into herself, a cold, aloof mask slipping carefully onto her features. Her eyes— which had grown wide with shock— now narrowed in disapprovement at the interaction between the two brothers.

"Are we. . ." the words drifted from Jon's lips, an uncertain look appearing on his face as he glanced at her warily, his brown eyes shining with a small sliver of hope.

"Yes we are preparing for the attack on Stannis," Everra replied and she almost felt guilty at the loud sigh of relief Jon let out. His head sagging on his shoulders. Everra could see Robb tense from behind her, could see his gloved hands begin to twitch as he glanced at her quickly, before looking away the moment he realised she noticed.

 _He deserves to know_ her mind whispered. Everra narrowed her eyes in concentration, sitting back down her seat.

"Jon—"

"Take a seat," Robb interrupted, cutting her off harshly.

Everra stopped short in her speech, careful to maintain her detached composure. Jon looks between the two of them, confusion evident on his face, before taking a seat next to Everra, with Youngbird following in his footsteps.

"Let us begin shall we?" She said, clasping her hands together.

* * *

"If we come from above we will have the higher ground—'

"Yes, but if we come from around we will have the element of surprise—"

"Forgive me Lord Greatjon, do you not understand how difficult it would be to march thousands of soldiers along a narrow path?" Everra snapped at the grey-haired older man.

She smoothed her hands over the map once more, biting on her lower lip in thought.

The sun had long since risen since they began, the Lords trickling in every hour. They all surrounded the table, their voices raised from where they had yelled or conversed with one another. Sweat trickled down a lot of their faces, the heat in the tent was almost suffocating. They had come no closer to figuring out a plan in the past few hours.

They glared at each other, each of their tempers rising. The rest seemed to sense the tension as they quickly shuffled forward and one of them called out to Lord Greatjon, his words a weak warning.

"Perhaps if she had known how to defend her home we would not be in this situation," he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for her to hear.

Everra did not care what he thought of her, her mind to frustrated to even fully comprehend what he had insinuated, "I did not expect for one of my people to betray me Lord Edwin."

"There seems to be a lot of that going around with your people isn't it?" He shot back, his face undoubtedly smug.

"Apologise!" Young bird hissed, reaching for his sword.

"Stand down!" she commanded, her voice firm, "We have no time for childish bickering."

The two men stood down, but continued to glower at each other.

"How many men did you say Stannis had in the mountains?" Jon asked, his voice quiet.

Everra snapped her head towards him, watching his rather unsure expression grow more strong, his belief himself growing.

"A couple of hundred," she replied, watching him carefully, "why?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, "I was thinking that we split the army, we send one half to the mountains to defeat Stannis's group there and someone on the inside can open the passage door. We can then attack Stannis from both the inside and the back and he wouldn't have even noticed."

Everra frowned at him, though she could see some other Lords looking at each other in slight surprise.

"Yes but if Stannis does manage to siege RedRun by the time we get there, he will have all the passages he knows of guarded. Heavily. We wouldn't be able to sneak men in without alerting the entirety of his army."

"Yes but what if he hasn't taken it yet?" Jon retorted, staring back at her, rolling up his sleeves.

"So what?" she asks, "We rely on luck and chance for victory?"

The Lords and Jon deflated at this her words resonating with them.

A voice quickly followed her words, "Maybe we might have to, my lady. This is the best chance we have of defeating Stannis," Robb finished, his eyes glancing briefly at her.

Everra looked down at the map of her home once more, a heavy feeling settling on her chest.

"I suppose you are right, your grace but we must determine the amount of men and supplies we can sacrifice to this cause in relation to the upcoming attack on Casterly Rock."

Robb shook his head at her, his curls falling over his forehead, "Once. . . _If_ we defeat Stannis Baratheon, it will be only us and the Lannisters left. If we can defeat Stannis it will bring the tide of the war indefinitely in our favour. We would be able to gain more allies, a lot more easily."

She could see a small, minuscule gleam in his eye that softened as he looked at her and muttered, "Casterly Rock may wait."

For one brief moment it felt like it had before— before their mess, their _mistake_ but the moment quickly vanished with a blink of his eyes and Everra inwardly cursed herself for her weakness.

"How many men?" she asked eventually.

"I beg your pardon my lady?" Robb asked.

"Men," she clarified, "How many men will you spare me to go to battle?"

Robb looked taken aback by her question before quickly responding, "What makes you assume that none of us will accompany you to battle against Stannis?"

She glanced at him for a moment, her green eyes fierce and responded, "If we lose against Stannis— if I lose, you will be able to continue on. If you spare me a few thousand men and we all die, you and your cause will be able to move forth onto Casterly Rock and defeat Stannis another day. If you come with me or whoever else goes to the Bloodlands and we lose, you will die. And all of this, will have been for nought."

The room grew silent at her words, each of them sending glances and nods towards each other.

Robb glanced around the room, his blue eyes a steel mask against her words.

"And if you win?" he asks, "If you manage to kill Stannis what will that make of us?"

The tone of his voice had shifted, from comforting to bitterness to accusing— the implication of what he was saying was not lost on her.

"A skilled strategist who managed to defeat one of the greatest generals in the whole of Westeros, who managed to wipe out his family."

"What if you change your mind?" Robb snaps at her.

The tension in the room grew after the words left his lips.

Everra stared at Robb with a cold harshness in her eyes, her jaw tightening, "Your grace?"

They glared at each other furiously from across the table, before Robb cleared his throat and commanded, "Lady Everra and I have some important matters to discuss. This meeting has ended."

Everra stood there silently, resisting the urge to clench her hands into fists.

When the room finally cleared, Robb turned to look at her.

"What I meant was—"

"What in all the seven hells are you doing?" Everra asked, cutting him off.

Her hands were shaking as she spoke and continued to shake as she waited for a reply. Her breathing had increased and with it her chest rising more and more rapidly.

Robb blinked at her, taken aback by her tone.

"My lady—"

"Are you trying to ruin me?" she asked him furiously, "Or does it just come naturally for you to act like an angry little boy?"

"Excuse me?" Robb asked incredulously.

"Your excused," she snapped back, rage pounding through her veins, "But please tell me your grace, what would I change my mind about?"

Robb blinked at her a few times, a small flush of pink appearing on his neck.

"What if Stannis changes your mind?" he questioned, "People of your house and banner men have changed their allegiances before, what if he manages to change yours?"

Everra blinked at him, once, twice before laughing so hard she could hardly breathe.

She placed a hand on her chest as she shook with laughter.

"You- think- that—" she erupted into laughter once more, watching as Robb shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," she said, after her laughter had finished, swiping at her eyes, "You think that he'll change my mind?"

Robb did not respond.

"No offence or anything Robb," she said, a giggle escaping her throat, "but if I wanted more riches and power I would have sided with the Lannister's and not with you." At this all pretence of laughter and giggles disappeared from her face.

"For all I know you could still be plotting with them to kill me," Robb muttered.

 _Calm yourself. . . ._

"If I had wanted you dead I would have killed you long ago," she snapped at him.

Robb snorted at that in disbelief and though Everra knew he was angry and hurt— perhaps rightfully so— she snapped. Before Robb could comprehend what had happened she had moved swiftly forward and he felt a sharp pain in his ribs and a hand on his shoulder and with a surprised yelp he was turned swiftly into a lock, both of his arms pinned behind him with a knife to his throat.

Their faces were so close together that their breaths mingled, their chests rising together in sync.

"I could kill you within a blink of an eye Stark," she snarled at him, her green eyes flashing, "Don't forget that."

"Do it then," he challenged, "You don't care about my home and you sure as hell don't care about me, so do it. Kill me."

A cruel smirk appeared on her lips and a coldness that Robb had never witnessed with her before appeared in her eyes. He had never seen her like this. She had always been cold and aloof but he had never seen her be cruel. In that moment, he understood why people were so terrified of her father.

"I've put too much effort into this war for me to kill you now," she said instead, loosening her grip on him.

"Why not?" he asked her, "It would make it a lot easier for you."

She shoved him away from her, her green eyes furious as she raged at him.

"Your right, it would be a lot easier for me if I killed you. It would be a lot easier for everyone in this room if I killed you. You are an emotional child who acts like a man and clings to these ideals of honour and greatness and is too damned stupid to realise that there is NO PLACE IN THIS WORLD FOR HONOURABLE MEN! None. That's why your father's dead and your uncle and your grandfather, heck I reckon even honour killed your aunt too."

"And what killed your mother and father?" Robb retorted, anger boiling in his veins, "Sel-pity and drunkenness."

Everra's eyes flashed at him from across the room, her voice rising.

"Is that supposed to make me feel bad huh? Is a petty remark about my parents supposed to turn me into an obedient, silent woman? Sorry to rip your head out of the snow _your grace_ but I really don't give two fucks about what you think about my parents. Did I kill my father? Yes, yes I did. And I did the whole of Westeros a favour when I shoved that knife into his neck, the same way my mother did me a favour when she flung herself from the battlements, leaving her brain splattered on the floor of the courtyard."

Robb glared at her and felt like no words could describe the anger he felt in his stomach.

"Shut up," he snarled at her, his fists clenching.

"What?" she asked, taking a step towards him, "Am I hurting poor little sensitive Robb's feelings? Am I making him angry? Do you want to hit me Robb? Huh? Come on Robb, hit me like a man."

She took a few more mocking steps towards him, goading him all the while and gestured to herself, "Come on, hit me."

Robb shook his head at her, taking a step towards the table.

"Hit me," she hissed.

Robb ignored her.

Everra let out a small sound of satisfaction as he continued on ignoring her.

"I would be the greatest queen Westeros has ever seen. I would be greater than _you_ or any other ruler who came running for the throne. I would rule with an iron fist, I would make the kingdom _great_ once more. I could still do it if I wanted to. All I would have to do to eliminate any competition from the east is have my spy's kill the Targareyn. Getting rid of the rest of you would have been as easy as baking a cake. But I won't. Because underneath the crown and the jewels and the pretty castle, a king or a queen has nothing. No power. They're like a puppet for the people, with invisible strings attached to the back of them, always keeping them in line, always telling them what to do. That puppet, is you. The ones who really have the power are the ones who pull the strings, who are the kings and queens in everything but name. Who have the power, the wealth and the _mind_ to be a real ruler. A crown is merely an illusion for the puppeteers."

By now she had reached him and cupped his cheek with her cold hand, her green eyes pouring into his blue ones and what she said next made the hair on his arms rise and a jolt of lust down to his stomach.

"And in case you haven't noticed Stark, I am pulling your strings."

"I am your king," he said firmly.

"Yes and I am your queen in everything but name," she retorted, her eyes stuck on his, "And it is time for us to finish planning the demise of an entire house your grace."

 **A/N DUN DUN DUN! We're out.. . . now this chapter I'm sure will be controversial and thats good because it was meant to be that way. I wanted to demonstrate how-for lack of a better term- low Robb/Everra's relationship has gone. Everra is fed up with playing nice with him and acts scarily like her father. The words they both say to each other will burn and haunt them for a while. Especially Robb. Their relationship is both unhealthy and healthy for them both- good for them when they are on good terms and destructive to all those around them when they are not. They both . . . .** _ **change**_ **each other and it is up to them to decide whether or not its for better or for worse. Coming up next, The Battle of the Blood is coming. I'll try to upload the chapter as soon as possible.**

 **Till next time! :)**

 **Fionakevin073**


	34. Chapter 31: Battle of the Blood

Chapter 31

 _Everra giggled- it was an innocent sound, like that of a normal, happy child. Her green eyes gleamed as she stared across the beautiful landscape, a small squeal escaping her throat. She was at the top of a mountain, her chest heaving from exhaustion, her small frame nearly doubled over but she was happy that she had made it._

 _She could see the tall looming, red castle and felt as though it could touch the skies. The moat glistened against the dull red of the ground, which has misshapen patches of dying grass randomly placed throughout the area. A peaceful breeze swept over her suddenly and she shivered before quickly beaming at the sight of a tall, beautiful woman with kind brown eyes walking towards her, holding the front of her skirts._

" _Bravo little Eve," her mother said, clapping her hands together, a smile appearing on her lips._

 _Everra giggled once more, before reaching for her mother's hand and squealing, "I did it mother! Did you see?"_

 _Her mother laughed at her words and bent down until she was at her eye level, "Yes, indeed I did my darling daughter."_

 _They stood there, giggling for a while before Everra looked down and frowned at her feet, her green eyes wide with worry, "Mother, my new boots." She lifted her skirts to show her mother the mud stained boots, her hands nearly shaking with fear._

" _Shh," her mother said soothingly, "It'll be alright darling one."_

" _But they were just given to me by Lord Edwin for my name day," Everra muttered, her black curls blowing in her face._

" _I'm sure Lord Edwin will not be offended," her mother said brightly, staring at her softly and grabbed her hands in hers, "If anything he will be flattered that his future liege Lady is wearing his gift."_

" _You really think so?' Everra asked hopefully, her voice small._

 _Her mother nearly laughed at her words and patted her hair gently, "I know so. Come on, little one, I have one more thing I must give you."_

" _But mother," Everra exclaimed, "My name day was two moons ago."_

 _Her mother shook her head at her and squeezed her small hand, "It wasn't ready for you then, little Eve."_

 _Everra glanced back at the castle once again, her young face looking suddenly very solemn— too solemn for a child to ever be. She did not move to follow her mother, too captivated by the sight to move._

 _When her mother realised she was not following her she stopped in her footsteps and turned back to look at her daughter. She walked back to her slowly, a frown appearing on her face once she saw Everra's solemn expression._

" _What is it, little one?" she asked, her voice suddenly grave._

 _Everra gulped loudly and began to fiddle with her hands and muttered, "Is that really going to be mine one day mother?"_

 _Her mother glanced up at the castle, her expression unreadable._

" _Yes, indeed it is. It will be, one day," her voice was reserved and for a moment it briefly sounded as though she was speaking to Everra's father._

 _Everra nearly winced at her tone, desperate for her happy, loving mother to return to her._

" _Come along now," she commanded coldly, "Let us move on."_

 _Everra gulped._

* * *

One week had passed since Robb and Everra's argument in his tent and time had not made their animosity weaken. They both practically ignored one another at councils, the only time Everra spoke to him with something other than passiveness was when Robb announced that he would participate in the battle. She had stared at him for a few torturous moments before muttering 'As you command, your grace'. It sounded as though she was mocking him, not being submissive. As the look that had appeared in his eyes as she said it spoke volumes.

The time had finally come for them to leave the Wastelands and head to the east, towards RedRun. All of the materials were prepared, as well as the men all that was left was for them to finally leave.

Young bird was not coming with her, she needed someone to remain with the other lords whilst they campaigned for Casterly Rock. He had protested loudly when she told him of her plans and questioned her as to why he and not Jon was staying.

Everra had not answered him and merely stated that though she appreciated his loyalty, her word was final.

Nearly a year had passed since the beginning of the war, the longest year of her adult life. She doubted that any time of her life moving forward would be as long— as _torturous_ as this one. She preferred the freedom of Essos, the exoticness of the lifestyle but that did not mean she would leave her home. In Westeros there was a system as to how everything worked, it may have not been one many wanted to admit but it was a system nonetheless. A system which she knew how to play. Survival.

Everra looked around the empty tent once more, Andromache at her side. Her chest felt like stone, as though the inescapable burden that had been thrust upon her shoulders had finally begun to sink under its weight.

Her green eyes were contemplative as she sent one final glance around the short space, before turing on her heel and walking away. She was bombarded by the sound of horses neighing loudly, the clatter of swords being arranged, along with spears and arrows, the stomping of her soldiers feet. It was the sound of battle, of the stark red spilt on their swords, of the dead bodies beneath their feet, of sobbing mothers, sisters, brothers, fathers and wives. It was the sound of impending death and she welcomed it because that was the rhythm that she knew best.

Sigils of dire wolves and panthers filled the air, a mixture of black, red and blue. Her sword suddenly felt heavy against her leg, the knives up her sleeves suddenly becoming glaringly more apparent. She could hear the distant sound of either Ghost or Grey wind growling and Andromache began to purr back, the purr deepening into a growl. Though instead of sounding like a threat, it sounded as though she was joining them, helping them send off their masters as well as hers.

A slight breeze suddenly filled the air, rustling her hair and whipping through the air. Everything seemed to be heightened, the smell of the air, the colours around her, the sound almost as if her body was absorbing all signs of life that it could in preparation for the impending doom lying ahead. The calm before the storm.

Everra tensed at the feeling of a cool hand on her shoulder and she turned to look at the man but was taken aback by the sight of Lady Catelyn staring at her. Just as she was about to open her mouth, she looked into the older woman's eyes and understood that this was a conversation to be had in private.

She wordlessly gestured towards the tent she just exited and Catelyn nodded, her eyes grave. Everra stepped into the tent, the sounds from outdoors almost instantly muffled.

Once she had walked to the far side of the tent, she turned to face her, watching her expectantly.

Catelyn's eyes did not falter as she stared at her fiercely, though her hands clasped together in front of her and her thumbs began to twiddle together, a sign of her nervousness.

"My lady?" Everra asked, not bothering to mask her impatience, "You wished to talk to me?"

Catelyn nodded at her, looking down before speaking, "I wanted to wish you well before you left, my lady, riding into battle is no easy feat."

Everra nearly frowned at her but managed to refrain herself from doing so and chose her next words carefully, "While I appreciate the sentiment Lady Catelyn, his grace will be accompanying me into battle, surely you want to be with him instead? After all— forgive me if I appear rude, my lady— he may die, same as me."

Catelyn's eyes lay firmly on the ground and she did not respond to her statement. It was then a wave of understanding hit Everra and she looked at the older woman intently, her green eyes showing nothing of her inner thoughts.

"You do not want him to come, do you?" she asked and the words seemed to awaken the older woman, as she snapped her head up to stare her forcefully.

"Yes," Catelyn agreed, her voice icy, "I don't want him to accompany you to RedRun."

Everra felt a small spark of anger erupt in her stomach as she snapped, "He's not a child any more, he's a _king._ All of these men have or had mothers and fathers who did not have the authority or wealth to control whether or not their sons got shipped off to war—"

"This is not because I'm afraid of him dying!" Catelyn burst out passionately, her blue eyes wild, "If I were to receive a gold coin for the amount of times my son has been put in harm's way I would be richer than all the houses in Westeros combined. This is not because I am afraid of him dying, I am always afraid of him being killed, every moment of everyday since we went to war with the Lannisters."

"Then why are you here?" Everra asked coldly.

Catelyn deflated at her words, her blue eyes losing their wild gleam and suddenly grew solemn as she spoke, "I do not know what happened that night that Lord Edwin died, though I assume that what I was told was a part of the truth." At Everra's blank gaze she quickly added, "I do not expect to hear the truth of what happened anytime soon, all I know is that ever since that night my _son,_ my _firstborn_ changed. For the worse. When you first came into our lives— into this _war_ I knew that you would change him, I just hoped it would be for the better."

"I have—"

"Don't deny it," Catelyn interrupted, "I saw the both of you the other day, it looked as though you two were moments away from killing each other."

"Every adult has an argument," Everra said finally, still looking impassive.

Catelyn sighed loudly, rubbing at the space between her eyebrows, "My son is acting as though he has something to prove—"

"With all due respect my lady, he does have something to prove," Everra interrupted, "He is the most inexperienced of the leaders in terms of warfare and everything else I might add. Though he has won a few battles, there are many who claim they were mere strokes of luck. He took all of Westeros by surprise with his decisive wins against Tywin Lannister—do not misunderstand me— but those are not enough. He needs to win the war and to do so he must defeat both Stannis and Tywin."

"I am not arguing with that my lady," Catelyn said, her eyes now pleading with her to understand, to listen, "I am merely stating that he's not trying to prove something to _them,_ he is trying to prove something to _you."_

Everra tensed at her words slightly, her eyes narrowing, "That is not true."

"He will die if he goes to battle!" Catelyn exclaimed, her voice rising, "And then all of this will be over, all of this death and destruction will have been for nought. The north will be ruined, your home will be destroyed, my daughter— my family will be hunted and slaughtered. The northern armies will be obliterated, as well as yours, if he dies and he will. Because he is not acting like the man I know him to be, he is acting like a boy with something to prove and with that comes recklessness. And recklessness in battle comes with death, you know this as well as I."

Everra shifted on her feet slightly, her frustration rising under her skin, "So then what do you suggest we do? Hmm? Stroll up to him and tell him not to go? He'll never willingly stay behind, you know this as well as I do."

Catelyn looked grim as she responded, "Who said it had to be willingly?"

Everra stared at her for a few moments, her eyes widening with realisation, "You wish to poison the King?"

"Not poison," Catelyn insisted, her voice desperate, "Merely subdue him long enough for you to leave."

Everra raised an eyebrow at her and sighed, rubbing a hand across her face, "Well do you have any sort of concoction for you or me to give him?"

Catelyn seemingly withdrew into herself, her back straightening, "No."

"Do you have anything we can give him that might subdue him for a while?"

"No."

Everra straightened her back, her detachment returning, "Then let us forget that this conversation ever took place."

"Nightshade!" Catelyn burst out, her voice pleading, "A few drops of nightshade in his drink shall do the trick."

Everra frowned at her, before asking, "Do you happen to have any on you?"

"No," Catelyn admitted, "But I know where we can get it."

* * *

Everra walked calmly towards the battered tent, ignoring all the bows she received from the soldiers who noticed her presence. She paused only for a brief moment before entering, her back straight.

She was immediately met with the sound of low groans and moans, blood stained cloth's scattered the floor, along with puss and some severed limbs. It was a sight that many would cower at but Everra did not flinch and merely stood calmly, waiting for the healers attention. When the woman turned to look at her, she did not seem startled or surprised and merely stood and walked towards her.

"I wish to speak to you in a more private place, if you please."

The healer nodded at her and moved to leave the tent with Everra at her heels. They entered a smaller one directly opposite the one Everra originally entered. This one had small vials scattered all over, needles, cloth and skin seemingly covering all of the space.

"As you know by now I am going into battle," Everra started, her hands clasping together, "And if I lose and Stannis captures me. . . my fate will be gruesome as we both know many women caught in battles are. I wish too. . . obtain a _substance_ that will help me if I am stripped of my weapons and my men are killed. I have learned that essence of nightshade should work, should it not?"

The healer nodded at her solemnly, turning around to search for a vial in the clutter. Everra only had to wait a few moments before she placed a small vial in her hand, her head looking downwards.

"Thank you," Everra muttered, clothing the vial in her hands, "Your co-operation is most appreciated.I trust that you won't tell anyone of this discussion?"

The healer stayed silent, her body shrunken into herself, her back hunched. She glanced up momentarily at Everra, her eyes blank and lifeless. Everra noticed the way she swallowed uncomfortably and she felt a tiny sliver of pity form in her throat.

"Your tongue was cut out wasn't it?"She asked bluntly, watching as the healer stiffened but nodded nonetheless.

"Was it Joffrey?"

Another nod.

Everra's eyes narrowed as she spoke, "Thank you."

* * *

"Did you get it?" Catelyn asked hurriedly, walking over towards her.

Everra nodded grimly and reached for the vial which she had shoved up her sleeve.

"Can we trust that the healer won't talk?" Catelyn asked.

Everra nodded and replied, "Yes."

Catelyn's shoulders seemed to sag in relief at this, her face losing some of it's grief.

"Remember the plan?" Everra asked.

Catelyn nodded solemnly, her relief vanishing instantly.

Everra swallowed down the bile that had risen in her throat, her eyes glancing down at the vial in her hands.

"Three drops?"

"Three drops."

"All right then," she said impassively, tucking the vial back into her sleeve, "We've got a king to subdue."

* * *

Everra walked into the tent calmly, her eyes landing immediately on the sight of Robb's back. He was leaning against the table, his shoulders hunched up to his ears and she could hear his distant murmuring.

"Your grace," she announced, clasping her hands together.

Robb jumped at the sound of her voice and turned to look at her, his blue eyes widening in surprise before growing cold at the sight of her.

"You wish to speak with me my lady?" he asked coldly, "I thought you would be preparing to leave as we are leaving quite soon."

Everra nodded at him and took a few step's forward into the tent.

"Indeed you are right, your grace but I thought it would be best if you and I talked before we left."

Robb visibly stiffened at this, his blue eyes growing colder and more bitter with every word that came out of her mouth.

"What do you wish to discuss?" he asked, almost accusingly, "How you are a better ruler than me? How impatient and emotional I am? About how I will be used and played with for the rest of my life. _Please,_ Please tell me what you wish to discuss my lady because I think we've both said everything that needs to be said. I rule my men and you listen to whatever woman or man told you to come and destroy my family."

Everra stood silently as he ranted on, her expression cool yet her eyes spoke volumes.

"I'm not sure what I did could be forgiven by any man, woman or child," she says gently, "But I didn't do what I did because I wanted to be forgiven. I made my choices because I wanted you to live. I know that you don't understand my choices—"

"Then help me understand!" Robb burst out, his eyes fierce. "Maybe if you told me something about you I would understand why you did this. To me, to my father, to my sisters and mother to _your_ brother. _Our_ brother. And I don't want to know as a lover or a friend, I want to know as your King. I have the right to know."

Everra walked up to him, until they were so close their breaths mingled together. She stared him in the eyes, "Your right, you do have the right to know but that isn't how the world works, Robb. Things do not function based on what is right."

"We could die in a few days," he says instead, his blue eyes solemn.

"We could die today," she retorted, "But we keep on fighting anyway."

His lips twitched at this and then she took a step back from him, gesturing towards the table.

"Lets have a drink, shall we?" She said, walking towards the cups and jugs.

"I thought you said you didn't drink wine," Robb commented, his voice still slightly reserved.

"I don't," she replied smoothly, "But seeing as we might be leading our men into slaughter I think a drink won't do us any harm." At this reluctance, she urged him, gesturing to a chair, "Sit down Robb, I'm not going to kill you."

She poured the drink with her back to him and grabbed a hold of the two cups, walking towards the chair opposite his and taking a seat across him.

"Let's make a toast," she suggested, sliding the cup over towards him.

Robb nodded at her and replied, "Lets."

She grabbed a hold of her cup and raised it towards him.

"To not dying?" She said, watching as a small laugh left his mouth.

"To not dying," he agreed, raising his cup as well.

She watched as he brought the cup to his mouth and slowly lifted her own to her lips, taking a small sip. They watched each other for a moment and Everra knew then that even though Robb might be well on his way to forgiving her, he would never forgive her for this.

He twitched suddenly, his mouth turning into a slight grimace, "The wine tastes different."

"Does it?" she asked innocently, taking another sip from her glass.

"Yes," he said, frowning down at his cup, "It tastes bitter, not sweet as it usually does."

"Really?" Everra commented, "I hadn't noticed."

At this point his shoulders began to slag slightly, his eyes beginning to droop, "Yes, quite strange," he muttered, placing his cup on the table.

"I don't feel. . ." he muttered, rubbing at his eyes.

Everra had now moved towards him, crouching down in front of him, "Robb?" she asked.

"It's almost as though someone slipped Nightshade into my wine," he muttered amusedly, looking down at his hands.

Everra did not move.

He noticed this at once, his blue eyes widening with betrayal, "You poisoned me?" he whispered, clutching his throat.

Everra shook her head and reached forward, grasping his hands and clutched them tightly when he tried to pull them away, "Your just going to sleep for a little while."

Thought that did nothing to calm him and he tried to raise his voice, "Guards!" he whispered weakly, struggling to stay awake.

She watched him struggle for a few moments and felt his resistance beneath her fingers begin to fade.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, as she stared into his eyes.

Everra knew in that moment that this was a betrayal that he would never forgive. He slumped down in his seat, unconscious, his blue eyes drifting shut.

She looked at him for a moment, taking in his sleeping form. From his lips to his nose, to his eyebrows she gazed at them all, drinking him in for what she knew might be the final time. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead before rising and knocking her hand on the table thrice.

Catelyn entered the tent, abandoning all of her composure as she rushed over towards Robb.

"How long should we wait here for?" Everra asked quietly.

When Catelyn responded it sounded as though she was far away, "A few more minutes, I think. I sent the guards to go run an errand when you entered the tent, as far as anyone knows I was with you the whole time. And—"

"They would never accuse a mother of poisoning her son," Everra finished for her.

"Yes," Catelyn agreed quietly, gulping loudly, "They wouldn't."

The silence that followed afterwards was unlike anything Everra had been through before. As though her surroundings were shrinking around her, closing in on her so she would be unable to move.

"We did the right thing," Catelyn stated, though it sounded as though she was trying to convince herself more than her.

Everra did not answer, before walking towards the jug and quietly pouring another glass of wine. She then walked towards the pulled out chairs and pulled out another one beside her own and gave the cup to Catelyn.

"Have a few sips of that," she commanded, "Then place it where the other chair is pulled out."

Catelyn watched her warily as she moved and though she looked reluctant, she took a few sips from the cup.

Meanwhile Everra walked over towards Robb and crouched beside him once more, her eyes taking in his position. She rose until she was at level with his shoulder and then grasped his right arm— his drinking arm— and pulled it upward onto the table, letting it hang there limply. She then moved from his left side to his right side and placed his cup by his limp arm. She grasped onto his hand gently and opened it, placing the cup in his open palm. She then gently let go of his hand, pushing at his arm gently so that the cup rolled over, the dark red wine spilling across the table, onto the ground or on Robb.

She looked at Catelyn, whom had now taken a seat in the pulled out chair, still holding her cup tightly. Everra moved to sit down next to her and muttered, "Perhaps it is time you yell now."

Catelyn nodded and sighed and Everra took one brief moment to prepare herself for the upcoming chaos.

"Guards!" Catelyn yelled, violently pushing her cup of wine onto the table and rushing to Robb's side.

Everra had stood up as well, her eyes widening with false panic.

"Guards!" She yelled as well, rushing to Robb.

"The King has collapsed."

* * *

"The attack on Stannis must continue," Everra stated loudly, a few hours after Robb had been found.

All the Lords had assembled together to decide on whether or not to proceed with the attack.

"His grace would not want us to risk the lives of innocents simply because of his poor heath—"

"Poor health?" A lord asked gapingly, "He has been poisoned! Put into a deep sleep!"

"I am well aware of that," Everra replied cooly, "I was there if you do not recall."

Silence ensued before Roose Bolton broke it, "Lady Everra is right, we must leave today as planned."

Everra glanced at him, to find him already looking at her, his blue eyes as impenetrable as hers.

"Aye," Lord Greatjon said, though he looked reluctant.

"Aye," echoed another and another, until only a few Lords had remained stubbornly silenced. Jon looked wary beside her, his face pale.

"Aye," he muttered quietly.

Everra nodded in satisfaction before announcing, "Then I will leave at once. Good luck to all of you, if I do not return."

"The sentiment is returned my lady," Lady Maege Mormont replied, nodding at her.

Everra nodded back in respect and listened as the other Lords returned the sentiment.

"Farewell," she said and turned to walk out of the tent before pausing to wait for Jon, whom had nodded at the Lords and began to follow her.

Once she was sure he was joining her, she left the tent, her heart hammering in her chest all the while.

* * *

The sun was still high in the sky when Everra, Jon and another ten thousand soldiers left the base camp towards RedRun. The soldiers had grown quiet and fearful, though the Unsullied remained as solemn as usual. The only ordinary sounds was that of Andromache and Ghost, whom had both taken to staying nearby their masters.

It would take them a few days to reach RedRun and when they did Jon would take a thousand soldiers with him to the Blood Mountains and sneak in through the secret passage. Though this all relied on the hope that Stannis had not yet breached RedRun. . . if he had. . . Everra nearly winced at the thought and she clutched the rains of her horse tighter.

Though if she considered her nerves to be bad, nothing could have prepared her for Jon, whom looked as though he had just seen death knocking at his door. She heard him mutter under his breathe constantly and if she listened long enough it almost sounded like a prayer.

Everra almost felt a twinge of guilt when she heard this, knowing full well that Anna would die even if they managed to defeat Stannis. Sometimes she caught herself wishing selfishly that Anna would already be dead by the time they reached RedRun, so she would not have to do it herself and be faced with Jon's grief.

On the Eve before reaching RedRun, Everra lay in her tent, unable to sleep. She remembered her mother's words from long ago, about how RedRun would one day be hers and how her eyes had grown cold and solemn. For one brief, minuscule moment, Everra nearly missed her mother. Nearly missed her kind eyes and gentle words, nearly missed the promise of what she might have been if her mother had not died.

Perhaps she might have been a better person but Everra knew that being a better person in this world meant that you died too soon, murdered somehow by their own foolish delusions.

* * *

" _Mother where are we going?" Everra asked, giggling._

 _Her mother's hands were placed firmly over her eyes as she guided her to her late name day present._

" _Shh," she said, "We are almost there Little Eve."_

 _Everra nodded and shut her mouth obediently, glad that her mother had grown out of her depression._

 _Everra knew they were within the castle grounds, could hear the familiar sounds of the blacksmith working, of swords clanging together. Could feel the familiar feeling of the ground beneath her feet as she walked towards her unknown destination. There was another turn as they walked and Everra felt slightly dizzy at being guided somewhere, unable to see._

" _Ready?" her mother asked, whispering in her ear._

 _Everra nodded enthusiastically, excited to be able to finally see her surroundings once more._

" _Ready," she said, nearly squealing._

 _Her mother then slowly removed her hands from her eyes, to reveal a large circle filled with a dark substance, in the middle of one of the back gardens. RedRun was not known for being able to grow crops or flowers easily due to its strange ground and it was only on the extremely rare occasion that anyone managed to see health, earthy soil._

 _Everra gasped as she noticed it and ran from her mothers arms towards the large circle, her green eyes wide. She bent down on her knees and gingerly stretched out her hand towards the unfamiliar substance and nearly withdrew her hand as she touched it. It felt almost like mud except softer and less wet, almost like grain._

" _Mother is this soil?" she asked._

 _Though she could not see it, her mother nodded and kneeled beside her, gently placing her hands on top of hers._

" _Yes, indeed it is my darling."_

 _Everra frowned down at the soil, her head tilting to the side, "Shouldn't there be a tree or a flower in it though?"_

 _Her mother laughed softly, and lifted one of her hands to pat Everra's head, "But there is my darling, there is a tree, though it is very, very little.'"_

 _Everra suddenly looked confused and then bounced excitedly as she spoke, "Are we doing to grow it mother?"_

" _Yes, yes we are," her mother agreed, smiling wildly._

 _Everra squealed loudly and launched herself into her mothers arms, saying thank you all the while._

" _What kind of a tree is it?" she asked after awhile._

" _Your just going to have to wait and see, aren't you?" Her mother replied playfully, "That way I'll know you'll always take care of it, just to see it grow."_

* * *

"My lady?" Jon asked solemnly, his anxiousness evident. Everra turned to look at him, at his armour and stricken face and felt a fierce feeling grow in her stomach.

"Let us go talk to the men," she said, brushing past him to swing onto her horse.

They were so close to RedRun, to the point where they would separate. A guard would open the passage door for Jon and his men and then chaos would break loose.

Once Everra was safely on her horse, she rode it out to look at the men and among the sea of Unsullied she saw the fearful look of some soldiers faces and in that moment she did not care for what house they fought for or came from, all she knew that some of them would die for her home today.

"All of us on this battlefield are different," she started, her eyes going over every face in the crowd,

"But we have two things that are the same. All of us have killed, some of us have enjoyed it more than most, others have killed less than others. Some of you have wives, others of you do not. Some of you have children, illegitimate or not it does not matter. We all come from different families but we all have one home. Our home. Your woman, your children are being attacked, raped, murdered. I'm not going to ask you to fight for me, I'm asking you to fight for your home. Fight for your men, your women, your children. Show these men no mercy because they won't show you any. For all the blood these men have spilt, of _our_ people," her voice raised into a yell and as she looked into their fearful eyes, a warm, fierce feeling rose in her throat, "return the favour because _blood must have blood!"_

They yelled in return, their fear momentarily forgotten.

She turned to look at Jon, whose fear had vanquished in favour of a steel determination and said to him, "Good luck."

He smiled at her weakly and answered, "You as well, my lady."

In that moment all she saw was her mother's brown eyes, her kind smile and a lump formed in her throat.

"Jon—" she started, her voice catching.

"My lady?" he asked, oblivious to her inner turmoil.

"Don't die."

"I'll try my lady," he responded, before turning on his horse and galloping away, waving his hand over his head to summon his men.

 _That may be the last time you see him again_ her mind whispered.

* * *

They waited in the cold, waited for the fire to light on the tallest tower and as evening slipped into night and the stars seemingly shined stronger and stronger, Everra could feel her hands begin to sweat in between her fingertips. A fear which she had not felt since her childhood nearly overcame her as she waited, along with 9,000 other men.

"Come on Jon," she whispered into the night.

Her eyes scanned the view once more, waiting for that red flame to appear.

 _He's dead,_ her mind whispered, _they're all dead._

 _Robb._

She shook her head of her thoughts and scanned the view once more and just as she was about to give up, a small, bright light began to shine from the top of the highest tower and the lump that had formed in her throat quickly dissolved as the flamed moved from right to left.

"He did it," she whispered.

"Soldiers of RedRun, Unsullied, Northmen," she yelled, grabbing their attention, "Attack!"

Her yell echoed off into the night, as both Unsullied, northmen and RedRun men came barrelling down the castle to meet their fate.

* * *

 _Anna,_ his mind seemed to whisper as he shoved his sword into a man's stomach, blood splattering onto his face. He yanked his sword out of the dead mans stomach, his eyes scanning the courtyard for a glimpse of her familiar yellow hair.

 _Eleven._

He had not seen her down below in the dungeons where the other women and children had been placed, had not seen her when the guard opened the passage door.

 _Anna._

At some point in the battle, the gate had been opened and now both armies under the dire wolf and panther sigil fought against those under the stag both inside and outside the castle. Jon swung his sword over his head and skilfully managed to slice another soldiers throat as he stalked forward, another dead body falling to the ground.

 _Twelve._

He ran down a flight of stairs and glanced back at the castle door, which still remained firmly sealed.

Screams filled the air, of pain and anguish, of power and rage and grief and Jon winced at the awful sound.

Another soldier attacked him and he swiftly dodged to the side, slamming his sword against his.

 _Right step, left step,_ he repeated internally, Youngbird's words echoing in his mind, _snap, forward step, twirl, stab._ The man fell to the ground, lifeless.

 _Thirteen._

Smoke filled the night sky, the yellow and red flames small but burning. Agonising screams erupted near him and he turned to see a man on fire, running around aimlessly as he burnt.

"Jon," a voice said, grasping onto his shoulder.

"My lady?" he asked in disbelief, grasping onto her hand.

Her usually beautiful face was smudged with blood and a small cut at the top of her cheek. Jon was suddenly aware of his own injuries and quickly grabbed a hold of her hand and ran towards a small corner.

"Are you alright?" he yelled, in order to be heard over the noise.

She nodded at him, holding onto her blood stained sword.

"Have you seen Stannis?" she yelled at him.

Jon shook his head and was about to reply before she yelled, "Move!"

He did, startled and watched in amazement as she swiftly moved forward, her sword swinging to the side. He had never seen her fight in battle before and was amazed at the sight. It was as if she were a panther herself, her movements sleek and smooth— graceful even as she quickly sliced the man's throat.

"If Stannis dies," she yelled at him, "this is all over!"

And with that, she ran from him, her long, pinned back raven locks bouncing on her shoulders as she did so.

* * *

 _Thirty_ She thought, as the man collapsed in front of her.

She quickly dodged to the side as another man's sword swung forward and she brought her sword up to meet his. They stayed locked together for a few moments before she darted to the side, sliding her sword upwards to slice his stomach.

 _Thirty one_

She whirled around to gaze upon the bloody courtyard, her eyes scanning both the living and the dead to look for the one man she'd been looking for.

 _No, no, no_ she thought, as her eyes landed on tall men, short men, tanned and pale but not Stannis.

Never him.

She ran around the corner to a more deserted area of the battle, her muscles beginning to tire from the hours of fighting. She coughed violently, her shoulders shaking from the force. She wiped her mouth as she stared around her and all of a sudden everything came to a slow. She saw men fall to the ground, their eyes still widened with fear even death. She saw the blood of innocent men splatter against the floor and the helplessness she felt growing inside her blossomed.

A cold metal was suddenly pressed against her neck.

"Pleasure to see you again my lady," Stannis breathed into her ear from behind.

Everra stiffened at the contact but did not answer.

She heard him sigh softly before speaking once more, the sword on her neck never wavering, "You could still join me, I was friends with your father he knew where his best interests lay. You should too."

" _They don't lie with you,"_ she hissed, slamming her elbow into his ribs and swinging her sword up to meet his.

"You will die," he warned, tightening his grip on his sword.

"We all die," she responded.

And then the rest, as they say, will go down in history.

* * *

Jon sprinted down the stairs, his chest heaving with fatigue as he tiredly searched for Anna.

"Anna!" he yelled, his brown eyes searching the crowd of fighting soldiers, "Anna!"

He turned around another corner, his eyes automatically landing on the bloody bodies on the ground. A few men were still fighting, though he had noticed that the numbers had shrunk over the hours, rapidly. What that meant he did not know.

He didn't want too.

 _No_

 _No gods please no_

 _Please_

There was a sliver of yellow hair peaking from underneath another fallen corpse. It was long and a woman's he knew this.

His whole world shrunk around him, becoming unbearably small and he couldn't breathe. He felt detached from his body, as though he were looking from above and merely observing what was happening, not feeling it.

He didn't remember how he reached the body but he remembered the pain he felt on his knees as he sunk onto them. His hands shook as he shoved the other body off and—

 _No_

He cried out, his hands immediately reaching down to pull her onto his lap, her dead eyes staring lifelessly up at him.

"I love you," he whispered, rocking back and forth, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

The pain was unbearable as it tore through every inch of his body and he yelled in agony.

 _Make it stop it hurts,_ he pleaded.

To whom he did not know.

Tears leaked from his eyes as buried his face in her hair.

"I love you," he whispered.

And through the shouts of victory and the chaos around him, Jon did not move. Did not let go of her body and he sat there through the hours, as soldiers and healers came flooding through and he did not move.

 _He couldn't save her. . ._

* * *

When Robb first saw the tall, unusually red castle he froze, his fury leaving him momentarily.

He could see fading smoke from here, could smell the burning of corpses, could see the damage to the castle and he felt his heart leap in his throat.

 _Was he too late?_ He wondered, _Is she dead? Is Jon dead?_

He galloped forward towards the castle, his heart pounding in his chest all the while. When they reached the opened gates, he saw some soldiers screaming on the ground in agony and he jumped off his horse, handing the reigns to a nearby guard.

He scanned the area for her, his blinding anger returning ruthlessly.

When he could not find her, he turned around and his eyes landed on Jon.

He nearly winced at the sight of his brothers blood stained face but he was more taken aback by the emptiness in his eyes, the lifelessness.

"Jon?" he asked softly, walking towards him and gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

"She's dead," Jon said and Robb's heart dropped in his chest, "Anna she's dead."

Relief fled through Robb and then guilt as he looked down at his brothers face, "I'm sorry."

He meant it as well.

Jon glanced up at him for a moment before muttering, "In the gardens."

"What?" Robb asked, momentarily confused.

"She's in the back gardens, she hasn't left since the battle was won," Jon clarified, his voice dull.

"Jon no—"

"Go," he stated firmly, not looking at him, "I suspected that you weren't poisoned anyway."

Robb cast him one last look, watching as his brother sunk into himself further, before walking up to a guard and asking him where the back gardens were. The guard gestured for him to follow, muttering 'your grace' under his breath and as he walked by Robb saw the dead and the fallen, saw their bloody corpses and with each step his anger lessened.

Something dripped on his face and as he looked up towards the sky and touched the blood on his face, he frowned, before being able to make out a spike with what he assumed was a head.

"That, your grace," the guard muttered, "Is Stannis Baratheon."

Robb's head snapped to look at him, his eyes wide.

"Did Lady Everra. . . " he drifted off, a lump forming in his throat.

"Yes," the man replied, his face suddenly defensive, "She did. It was perhaps the most bloodiest fight I have ever seen."

Robb gulped.

When they reached the gardens the guard suddenly stopped and turned to look at him, his eyes downcast.

"She has not left since the battle was over, she disappeared to the tree and hasn't come back since, your grace. I'm not too sure she ever will."

Robb nodded his thanks and watched as the guard slowly disappeared until he turned the corner, leaving Robb to move forward.

He walked around the bare courtyard, his footsteps slow and ginger, as if he were hunting and trying not to scare his prey. He walked a few step's more and emerged from behind a pillar and nearly gasped at the sight.

He was bombarded with purple— that was the first thing he saw. A tall looming, tree with purple flowers all over. He could barely see the colour of the branches, that were long and thin.

 _Lavender tree_ he realised.

Purple flowers scattered the ground and when he stepped forward he could make out a figure.

Everra.

Her back was towards him as she knelt in front of the tree, her head bowed and her hands touching the bark, as if to remind her that she was still living.

He moved closer to her, his heart heavy in his chest and though some of the flowers crunched beneath his feet, she showed no sign of being aware of his presence.

When he entered the circle where the tree grew, he looked up and was mesmerised by the sight. Disbelief growing in his veins.

"The sword is there," she said, breaking the silence.

Robb's head snapped forward to look at her, though her back was still towards him.

"If you want to kill me do it," she said softly and a defeated sigh left her mouth, "I'm not going to stop you."

Robb frowned at her and walked closer, taken aback by her defeated stance.

"I'm not going to kill you," he told her gently.

"Well perhaps you should," she snapped, lowering her hand from the bark.

Robb stood there, shocked for a few moments, not saying anything. Not knowing what to say.

She sighed once more and tilted her head upwards to look at the branches.

"I'm going to tell you a story," she started, her voice softer and more vulnerable than he had ever heard it.

Robb did not say anything and instead sat down a few steps behind her, listening to her talk, knowing that this was what she needed.

"There was once a girl born in a foreign land. In a place surrounded by rivers and markets. She lived in a big home, with rich parents and a little brother and she was happy, content," her voice drifted off for a moment and Robb could see her take a deep breathe.

She then continued on, "For years she was raised to be a perfect little girl, a noble girl, who played the harp and sang and knew dances like the back of her palm. But not everything in her world was perfect. There were men, women and children who did not speak to her, who did not look at her and had strange marks on their faces. Some had fish, others had flies, some had tears and others a circle within a circle and others with a strange hammer. She was raised to ignore these people, to pretend they do not exist and she listened in part because she was a child and in part because she was afraid of the truth."

She paused for a moment, her breath shaky, "She continued to do so for many years, until she was a young girl, just past 10 and six. Beautiful and lively, she attracted much male attention. Sometimes to her pleasure and other times to her displeasure but it was not something she could prevent. Later on, she learned it was something that older men, cruel men noticed. One day, when she was walking in the market's a man grabbed a hold of her and dragged her into a deserted alley to rape her. She fought and fought but she could not fight him, he was too strong and just as she was about to give in, the man fell, dead. Behind him stood a man, a young man with a tattoo the shape of a fish on his face. They stared at each other for a few moments, before she urged him to leave, to run and so he did. They found her later, her parents and friends, shaking but resolved. How come these people whom she pretended did not exist helped her? A man whom could have easily done the same as that man intended to do to her. She resolved to find the man and thank him but she never saw him again."

Another deep breath, "She left her home to travel to a place, far, far away where slavery was no longer allowed. This was two years laters, after years and years of convincing her parents and of training to be a healer. She was eager to heal those in pain, to help them through their suffering and luckily for her she arrived at the beginning of a war. She had seen death before, but not like that. had never heard their whimpers or their screams, had never seen their lifeless eyes, had never felt their chests stop moving. A few months into the war, she met someone. A man of noble birth whose first name, she did not know. He was handsome and honourable and had a sister and a dead brother and father that he was fighting for. And though she tried not too she fell for him. She fell in love with he way he talked, the way he loved, the way he followed his oaths. But he was married, it may have been recent but married nonetheless. That did not stop either of them and they consummated their relationship. As if things were not bad enough, she became pregnant. Telling him was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She cried and pleaded and he took her into his arms and swore that he would look after them. _He swore."_

She stopped for a moment to place her hands back onto the bark, her voice heavy with emotion.

"And so the months went by and she followed him discreetly from camp to camp, careful to hide her undeniable bump. At one camp she met a man, with black curled hair and wicked green eyes, who eyed her stomach with a wicked sense of malice that scared her to her very core. Her lover told her he was a sick, cruel man whom he had once quarrelled with and left it at that. The war was ending and soon he would leave, she knew this and dreaded it. Each night she prayed to all the gods she knew of to make him stay. She was a good person, kind and good hearted, she didn't deserve this pain. No one did. And so time went on, she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy with her eyes and her heart blossomed with love. He was there, the father and though she knew he already had a firstborn, a true born she knew that he loved their son and she pleaded for him to take him. Please, she pleaded, you could give him a better life then I ever could. And so the war ended and her child and her love left. Two months afterwards, she came across the male with the wicked green eyes once more. Saddened and lonely, she allowed him to bed her, the emptiness inside her growing with each passing day. She had heard of the rumours surrounding the man, had heard of his inability to make his lovers with child and so when the first round of morning sickness arrives she is shocked. She tells him and he laughs at her cruelly and for the first time in her life she is truly afraid. She marries him and becomes his lady and is more miserable than she has been in her entire life. The only thing that keeps her going was her child. Her beautiful second child, whom was a girl. She was the only sense of joy in her life that she had. She was beaten, ridiculed and raped every single day of her life for four years. She was a kind person, a good, honest person whom was rewarded with cruelty. Finally one day, not even her daughter was enough. As a present her husband had given her the heads of her dead parents. So one night, she climbs to the tallest tower of her prison which she called a home and flung herself from it and plummeted to her death. She left her daughter with a monster for a father. She left her all alone, knowingly."

Her voice caught in her throat as she turned to look at him, her eyes vulnerable, "Do you understand now?" she asked him.

Robb did not answer and simply leaned forward to lean his forehead against hers.

"Your safe," he murmured.

"I'm tired."

He kissed her gently, before pulling away and tucking her head into his neck as he shifted to lean against the tree. He stroked her hair and whispered, "Go to sleep."

There they sat, Stark and Legrath beneath the Lavender tree for hours to come.

 **A/N Woah. . . that is by far the longest chapter I have ever written. I hoped you all liked it, I think this is my favourite chapter in this story so far. THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING GUYS! YOU ARE ALL SO AMAZING! WE ARE OVER 100 REVIEWS AND 200 FOLLOWERS! THANKS SO MUCH. Until next time! :)**

 **Fionakevin073**


	35. Chapter 32: Of Old and New Fates

Chapter 32

 _It was as if she were watching everything around her from up above. Looking but not seeing, not feeling. The air was hot and stuffy, a far cry from the rain pouring outside the twins. Perhaps it was because of the crowded room that it felt so overwhelmingly hot but she could not help it._

 _A strange feeling erupted in her stomach, as though she had been here before, had seen this room before. She glanced around it, watching the feast go by as men and women drank and ate and the bride and groom gazed at each other happily._

" _Everra?" Robb asked, concern evident on his face._

 _Everra jumped in her chair, turning to look at him. He looked happy and handsome, his face wholesome as he gazed at her. I've been here before she realised. When? She thought relentlessly, for the life of her she could not figure it out._

 _She plastered a smile on face as she stared at him, though the feeling did not fade away._

" _I'm fine Robb," she said and before Everra could even comprehend what she was doing she grabbed onto his hand and squeezed it gently under the table. She couldn't prevent herself from doing so, she could think and speak but her actions were not her own. The action had simply felt natural._

" _It is unwise for a Lady to lie to her King," Robb said playfully, his blue eyes shining._

" _It is even more unwise for a King to accuse a Lady of lying," she retorted and Robb let out a loud laugh at that, before glancing down at her lips for a few moments too long to be considered friendly._

" _No," she protested, shifting a few inches away from him. They had had conversations about this before they arrived. She had warned him not to draw suspicion. "You'll provoke him."_

 _The male she was talking about was a crusty, old, wrinkly man who had been leering at her since they had arrived. Robb frowned at her, his blue eyes looking slightly troubled before he nodded and leaned back in his chair._

 _Everra observed the room once more and though she could not see anything amiss, that cold fear still lingered in her bones. Everra picked up her fork and placed a bite of stringy meat in her mouth and chewed it slowly, the rhythm calming her nerves. Nothing is wrong, she thought. The feeling of her watching from above had begun to fade and now she felt a though her actions were fully her own._

" _Your grace," Walder Frey crowned, his voice thin but loud, "the septon has prayed his prayers, some words have been said and your uncle is now married to my daughter, but they are not man and wife yet. Shall the bedding commence?"_

 _Robb was looking at the old man carefully, his tone even as he responded, "Yes, Lord Walder. There is no wedding without a bedding ceremony."_

 _The men around them laughed in delight and rose from their chairs to the frightened looking Roslin. Her eyes were large and round like a deers and her bottom lip looked as though it were trembling. Everra watched impassively as they tore at her clothes, laughing all the while, watched as they slowly exited the feast and exchanged meaningful glances with Catelyn._

 _The men returned shortly after, red faced and laughing. Everra nearly rolled her eyes at their antics but stopped when Robb sent a warning glance her way._

 _She shook her head at him, a warm feeling spreading to her heart as she did so. She glanced around the room, her eyes landing on a pair of men in the corner, looking impassive and her heart sank in her chest._

 _She stood from her chair abruptly, causing it to slide back loudly. Robb cast her a surprised look and exclaimed "Everra what—"_

" _I'll be back," she replied numbly._

 _The fear inside her was growing as one of the men took notice of her staring at them and cast a terse glance at Walder Frey, before moving towards the door._

 _The sound of the drums quietened for a moment, until all she could hear was the sound of her heart pounding in her chest as she walked forward quickly._

 _Your being irrational, her mind whispered, there is nothing wrong._

 _It was then the song— the song of the lions, of their enemies began to play and that was when she knew the truth. The Rains of Castemere._

 _She caught up to the man in a few terse strides— a Frey she realised now— and yanked on his arm roughly, a shot of ice running to her heart at the feeling of cold metal beneath his clothes._

" _Robb!" she exclaimed, as she slapped the Frey so hard his mouth bled. He pushed her aside roughly, running out of the room._

 _And who are you? The proud Lord said, that I must bow so low._

 _Robb leapt from his chair at her shriek but let out a shout of his own as an arrow pierced through his leg and then another in his arm and he was shoved to the ground by Jon. Chaos had erupted in the room now— she caught a glimpse of Greatjon shoving a knife in a Frey's throat, caught a glimpse of blood splattering on the floor._

 _Jon ripped pulled a table on top of Robb to shield him from the onslaught of arrows that were still being pelted his way and Everra suddenly felt a burning feeling in her back as she crumpled to the ground. Northmen and Bloodmen slowly but surely fell to the ground, dead._

 _Robb, her mind whispered as she looked around wildly, still laying stomach first on the ground, I need to get too him._

 _She crawled forward, her back burning, unnoticed by the murderers as she crawled towards Lord Walder. She heard the distant sound of a wolf howling and could hear the sound of Andromache's cries. Her heart ached at the wounded cries. Why didn't we insist in bringing all of you here?_

 _And so he spoke, and so he spoke. That Lord of Castamere and now the rains—_

 _She nearly missed it— the feeling of her hand grasping around the short knife. There were only a few men fighting now and she couldn't see whether or not Jon was still standing. She didn't want too._

 _She forced herself forward, until she was close enough to catch a glimpse of Lord Walder's wife beneath the table, cowering and crying. Her heart burned in her throat as she tightened her grip around the knife, a fierceness ripping through her. She forced herself forward, ignoring Walder Frey's chuckles._

 _She dragged the girl out of the table by her hair, ignoring her whimpers of pain and fright as she pressed the knife tightly to her throat._

" _Lord Walder enough!" she pleaded, her heart in her throat._

 _Let Robb live, please, she begged internally. I've done enough in my lifetime, I'm a monster but he isn't. She was afraid for him, not herself._

 _He seemed to ignore her, his eyes staring intently at something behind her, a cruel and triumphant smirk emerging on his wrinkled face._

" _The King in the North arises!" he croaked, letting out a laugh as he casually sipped a glass of wine._

 _Everra did not look back at Robb even though she yearned to. She wanted to rush to him and see whether or not his heart was still breathing, she wanted to see whether or not his blue eyes were still filled with life._

" _Let it end!" She yelled, her desperation bursting through the seams. "You have repaid betrayal with betrayal. Let it end. Please."_

 _His gaze was focused on her now as he looked at her indifferently._

" _Let Robb go," she continued, pleading, begging, "Let him go and I swear we will forget this. By all the gods that exist in this world we. . . we will take no vengeance. I swear it."_

 _Lord Walder looked at her cruelly, his eyes indifferent to her pleas, "He was planning to break his word to marry you! He swore by all the gods that he would marry my daughter!"_

 _Her heart burst in her chest at his words, her frustration and desperation causing angry tears to trickle down her face._

" _Take me for a hostage!" she yelled pleadingly, "Marry me! I. . . I will give you children and. . . and even more wealth then you can imagine, just let Robb go!"_

 _Lord Walder glared at her in mistrust, though she could see a gleam in his appearing._

" _You would do this just to save his life?" he asked her._

 _She nodded furiously, hope beginning to blossom in her chest, "Any price or thing you want name it, just let him go."_

 _She turned to look at Robb, whom had crawled out from under the table and was crouched beside two dead bodies. As if she felt his gaze on him, his head turned to look at her and even though his heart was still beating his blue eyes held such utter defeat and lifelessness that he may as well have been dead. When his head turned, Everra caught a glimpse of whom the corpses were. The pale, lifeless faces of Jon and Catelyn, bloodied and bruised were staring at the ceiling._

 _Pain ripped through her chest as she gazed at Jon for a few seconds, before she snapped her gaze back to Robb's._

" _Robb get up!" she screeched, tears streaming furiously down her face, "Get up and walk out! Please."_

 _He forced himself up onto his legs, small noises of pain exiting his throat._

" _Everra. . ." he murmured, "No . . ."_

 _Everra's heart shrunk in her chest as Lord Walder snorted loudly at Robb's words._

" _Why would I let him leave when he clearly does not want to live?"_

 _Everra turned to look at him, a coldness that made her name feared across the lands growing in her veins as she pressed the knife even more tightly to the woman's throat._

" _On my blood as a Westerosi, on my blood as an Essosi let him go or I will cut your wife's throat."_

 _The next few moments where the most torturous of her life. Her heart pounding in her chest, the drums still sounded, boom doom boom doom. Please, she pleaded, please. His lips breathed in and out as Everra stared him down, the knife slippery in her grasp._

" _A lover for a lover," he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully._

 _His impassive and triumphant eyes met hers, "I'll find another."_

" _Everra," Robb whispered faintly._

 _Everra's head whipped back to look at Robb as a man— Roose Bolton, she realised, stalked up to Robb, clad in black armour and shoved his knife in his heart and twisted._

 _Robb may have broken his vow but Everra kept hers. She tugged at the woman's hair and cut her throat until she felt bone. Blood ran all over her fingers, making the knife slip onto the ground._

 _Tears burned down her face as she stood there limply, her insides burning with agony as she waited. Make it end, she pleaded. She tore at her face— more beautiful than any he had ever seen, Robb said— and felt the blood trickle down her face and into her mouth._

" _Mad," she heard someone say, "Just like her father."_

 _Mother make it stop, she pleaded, please mother make it stop it hurts._

 _She felt someone tug at her hair and a smile grew on her lips as she felt the cool knife against her throat. It's bite was cold and the blood was warm and as she was dying she thought, blood must have blood._

* * *

Robb felt her begin to shake beside her. At first he thought she was shivering in her sleep but then it gradually became more violent, her murmuring growing louder and louder though the words she spoke were still incoherent.

"Everra," he said, alarmed.

She didn't wake and instead continued to shake violently and it was then that Robb noticed her wounds. Though they were small Robb knew they had not been treated for a few days now and cursed himself for his stupidity.

"Help!" he yelled, grabbing onto her shoulders to try prevent her from shaking.

No one came. He looked around helplessly, knowing that no one would dare come near the tree whilst they were there. He looked at her shaking body once more, before hesitantly standing. He cast her one last look of concern and just as he had taken a few strides in the other direction, he paused and ran back to her. He scooped her sleeping form up into his arms and carried her away from the tree bridal style.

He walked quickly, Everra bouncing in his arms slightly with each stride. He followed the directions the knight had given him to get there but his brain was muddled and confused, his steps lagging under him.

He ran forward, his grip on her tightening and his heart leapt in relief as he caught sight of on old man with a grey cloak, like Mester Luwin's.

The Maester seemed to catch sight of him at the same moment and when he saw whom was in his arms he came over quickly, urging him to put her on the wooden stretcher nearby.

"What's wrong with her?" Robb asked worriedly, his eyes not leaving her unconscious form.

The Maester glanced at him, once, twice, something akin to suspicion and surprise lingering in his old, wise eyes, "I must examine her. . . " his voice trailed off, uncertain.

"Your grace," Robb supplied carelessly and he glanced up to look at the Maester after he had failed quiet.

The look he sent him was one of shock, as if what he said was incomprehensible.

* * *

"What you did was not wise," Catelyn said, her blue eye's staring him down.

Robb glanced at her, his brow's furrowing as he did so.

"What do you mean?" He asked, though he had inkling he did know what she meant.

"You can not go around carrying her in front of all you Lords to see Robb. They people will start talking—"

"The people talk from the Narrow Sea to Slaver's Bay to Lannisport mother, if everyone was to believe what the people said the world would be an even scarier place."

Catelyn glowered at him, her blue eyes sharp.

This was later on in the day, after the sun had begun to set and the bodies of the dead had begun to burn and others buried. Robb had seen Jon later on after Everra had been whisked away, had seen the sorrow in his brothers eyes and could still feel the shiver that had crept up his spine.

He had been there when they lowered his love into the ground, the handmaiden that had been with Everra when she had first been to Winterfell. The girl with the yellow hair whom he had not cast a second glance but whom his brother had loved fiercely.

"Except these aren't petty rumours," Catelyn told him, "These whispers have grain's of truth in them. You were reckless—"

"You seem to be eager to use that excuse for everything now, mother. Are you now going to lock me away in a cell in order for me to be less reckless?" He snapped, his patience thinning.

His mother drew back from him, her cheeks red. From shame or anger he did not know but she looked as though he had struck her.

"It would seem your forgiveness seems to stretch only to her and not your mother," she said stiffly.

Robb gazed at her for a few moments, his eyes tightening, "I haven't _forgiven_ either of you."

Catelyn quirked an eyebrow at him and spoke, "Haven't you? And what now, your going to kill her for her treason? You could not—"

"I understand her," Robb cut her off abruptly, his words firm, "And understanding is quite a lot more important than forgiveness."

"Do you understand why I did what I did?" She asked him softly, her blue eyes just like his own.

"Yes," he replied, after a beat, "That doesn't mean I forget."

She winced at his words and took a few steps forward, though they were gentle and careful as if she did not want to provoke him.

"I did it to keep you safe," she told him and for a moment it was almost as if they were back in Winterfell, back when he was still a boy with a father and had no blood on his hands. He would have smiled at her then, been a little cross but forgive her all the same.

As time would have it however, he was no longer that boy.

He was a king.

"I know mother," he meant it as well, "But if you ever do something like that ever again I will never let you walk around without a guard at your heels, even at Winterfell. Even if what you did was out of love."

His mother glanced down at the floor solemnly and Robb walked around her towards the door, his heart heavy in his chest. He yearned to take back his words, to comfort her and apologise for he knew his mother had too much grief but he did not and instead left the room with a heavy heart.

* * *

"The other host lead by Lord Umber is going well as they prepare for the siege on Casterly Rock," Roose Bolton told him, "By now all those in Westeros have heard of Stannis's sound defeat, especially Tywin Lannister. The only people still fighting are us and them."

Robb glanced at him briefly, his mistrust flaring inside of him, though he was careful not to show it.

"We need time to replenish our resources," Robb said, his voice echoing across the room, "If we do indeed manage to take Casterly Rock, we may not be able to hold it for long. This battle took a hard toll on our resources my lords."

Some nodded, others looked sceptical.

"Your grace forgive me but are you suggesting we do not lay siege on Casterly Rock?" Bolton asked, his tone even.

Robb frowned down at the map and grabbed a hold of one of the landmarks.

"Now that both Stannis and Renly have been defeated," Robb started before clearing his throat, "Now that only us and the Lannister's are left, we have one chance to defeat them for good. One."

He dragged the landmark to Kings Landing and continued, "The Lannister's know that the best chance they have of defeating us is in the field but they will be wary to leave King's Landing, their safe haven. They still outnumber us and we do not have the ships to travel to King's Landing and be done with the war. If the Lannister's manage to win over the Tyrells— which I assume they will sooner or later—, we will be largely outnumbered and the chances of us winning this war will plummet. We need every man we have and with the losses here. . ."

He didn't have to say it, the look on his Lords faces said enough.

"Perhaps we can send a raven to Balon Greyjoy," a Lord suggested, "Send his son Theon to ask his father—"

"No," Robb said loudly, "Don't ever trust a Greyjoy my father told me. Balon Greyjoy is still bitter from his defeat all those years ago. If he sense any time to strike, he will seize it and chances are the first place he would attack is Winterfell."

All the Lords nodded in agreement, muttering the same sentiments.

"The Martells?"

Robb froze for a moment, frowning.

"The Martells have hated the Stark's ever since King Robert's rebellion," Robb pointed out, "They think that it's our fault Elia Martell died."

"They hate the Lannister's more," Maege Mormont pointed out, "Perhaps they will answer if we call."

"And perhaps they won't," Robb retorted, "We will have to offer them something in return for their service. I can not offer my hand, as I have already pledged myself to another. My sister Sansa is still betrothed to Joffrey and Arya is promised to one of Walder Frey's sons. Dorian Martell only has a son and Oberyn has no highborn daughters for Bran or Rickon, only baseborn."

"What if whom we offered for a hand in marriage wasn't a Stark?" Lord Bolton asked, his face taunt.

A shot of ice ran to Robb's heart as he froze, his shoulder's stiffening.

"I beg your pardon, Lord Bolton?"

"If Lady Everra agrees and we get to discuss it with her once she has recovered from her injuries, we could suggest her hand, your grace. She is the head of a great house, is quite beautiful and was willing to pledge herself to Loras Tyrell. She is of age as well, your grace. It would be a great match."

Robb felt his insides bristle at the thought and inwardly cursed himself for it and had to force himself not to punch Roose Bolton in the mouth.

"Between her and which Martell?"he asked, his voice sounding slightly off even to his own ears.

"Perhaps Oberyn Martell?" The older man suggested, "He seems to want vengeance for his sister and he knows that Tywin Lannister ordered the death of her and her children."

Robb nodded though his insides were churning, anger and annoyance flooding through his veins.

 _Calm yourself,_ he commanded and stood their quietly for a moment before nodding, "Yes, I believe you are quite right. It would be a great match indeed."

* * *

It was a weird feeling, Robb noted, to understand someone's actions and not agree with them.

He thought of his mother and Everra and could feel his insides tighten at the thought of them plotting together. It was as if he were both hot and cold at the same time, as if he had one foot in a desert and another beyond the wall. Uneven and drastically different.

The guilt he felt from what happened a few weeks before had not faded, the dark whispers in the back of his mind were still there. He looked around the lavish room with its peculiar coloured walls and sighed. Grey wind seemed to sense his frustration and bounded towards him, nuzzling his head on Robb's hip. Robb glanced down at his closest companion and patted his head gently.

He seemed to be the only one whom had not betrayed him in any way.

It was well long into the night and it seemed to Robb that he was the only one in the castle still awake. A candle burned brightly in his chambers and Robb remembered the flushed Lord Yulian whom had brought him here and explained that he was the last of Everra's banner men. He hadn't called her Everra of course and Robb was slightly amused at his evident fear and admiration of his liege lady.

He then remembered the conversation him, Jon and Theon had had once in Winterfell all that time ago. How Theon had told him of the Blood Feast and how he was most likely to be betrothed to her by the time their stay had ended.

Robb cursed himself now for not agreeing, for being such a fool. If he had agreed to marry her then, he wouldn't have to marry a Frey and she would not have to marry anyone else.

Shame burned through him as he remembered their time together. As he remembered the feeling of her touches and kisses and how she _felt._

 _I could marry her_ he thought, _I should marry her._

Robb did not even want to contemplate the truth of his desires, he knew that she would not hear of them, would not allow them to be heard, to be voiced.

 _Always doing the thing that needs to be done,_ he thought bitterly and then cursed himself for his childishness.

The night seemed to be long and restless, he thought and then promptly blew out his candle, leaving him and Grey Wind swallowed in darkness.

* * *

Darkness blinded her. It was as if she were in an endless pit of darkness that swallowed her whole and she felt as though she were falling, deep down to her doom.

She did not scream aloud but she felt tempted too. She opened her eyes, once, twice, though she was still blinking in darkness.

A hand touched her shoulder and though she felt alarmed she did not show it. She suddenly felt as though she were standing on solid ground and nearly fell back from the abrupt change.

"Where am I?" she asked calmly.

She knew who it was.

"I'm not sure, my lady," the old woman replied, her voice sounded even more older and wary than before.

Everra turned around to look at the woman and could faintly see the outline of her hunched body.

"Why am I here?" she asked instead.

"Your injured," the older woman replied simply, "I came to visit you. Now that your home it will be even harder to do so unnoticed."

Everra stiffened slightly as she realised that Robb was never supposed to find out the truth.

"If you wish for me to explain myself—"

"No need," the older woman told her, waving her hand in the darkness, "Chances are if I were in your position I would have done the same."

Everra nodded, though her eyes were still guarded more than usual.

"You have made progress," the older woman noted, clasping her hands together— or at least Everra thought she did, it was hard to tell— "Stannis is dead."

Everra frowned at her words and spoke, "The Red witch isn't."

"She will be sooner or later," the older woman replied, "I'll make sure of it."

Everra quirked an eyebrow at the woman but did not say anything.

"Your relationship with the Stark boy has changed as well," she noted lightly and for a moment it sounded as though she were amused.

Everra stiffened at the words but spoke quickly, "It was once. It will never happen again."

The older woman sighed softly and it sounded sorrowful and heavy, as though she dreaded to tell her something.

"I'm afraid it might have too, my lady," she told her gravely, "The old fates seem to dislike you very much."

"The old fates?" Everra asked quietly.

"The fates which decided that the young wolf lost," she replied calmly.

"Oh," Everra said, her voice contemplative, "You are the new fate."

It wasn't a question.

"They were responsible for your dream," the older woman continued on as if she had never heard her speak in the first place.

A chill immediately shot through Everra's spine as she remembered the warmth of her blood trailing down her throat, the agony that had ripped through her heart and tore it into shreds. That much emotion scared her— though she pained to admit it.

Everra looked forward into the darkness and briefly wondered how long it seemed to stretch out. She could not even see one step in front of her.

She scanned her horizons and frowned at the small beam of light that began to appear far from her eyes.

"Our time is over my lady," the old woman said.

Everra frowned and turned to the source of her voice, "You said that the old fates did not like me— what did you mean by that? Why will I have too—"

"You will find out sooner or later my lady," the old woman cut off, "For my sake I'd prefer it be later."

The light was reaching them now, blinding in all its glory.

"Tell me—"

She was gone.

And Everra sighed and stepped forward into the light, shielding her eyes.

* * *

Everra could feel the softness of her pillow beneath her. Could feel her silk sheets and furs wrapped around her, encasing her in warmth. It was comfortable and it was familiar and she recognised her childhood chambers before she even opened her eyes.

When she did, she did it slowly, preparing herself for the pain light to blind her eyes. She squinted as she looked around her chambers and felt a small sense of relief that nothing had changed in the year since she had left.

She shifted backwards on the bed, leaning against her pillows so that her back was straight and shifted slightly in discomfort. Her muscles ached all throughout her body and she could feel freshly stitched wounds on her arms and legs but remembered that none of them were too serious. She was still alive and for the most part, uninjured.

The same could not be said for many of her soldiers however but before she could think more about it Andromache jumped on the bed and nuzzled her head against her stomach.

Surprisingly enough, it was more comforting than painful and so Everra relaxed herself and stroked her loyal friend calmly.

She could hear voices outside her chambers, a man and a woman and she frowned at the sound.

 _Perfect,_ she thought, rubbing at her eyelids.

Andromache purred in protest at her stopping her petting but Everra merely scowled down at her and did not continue.

She fingered the furs that were wrapped tightly around her and at Andromache's pout she gently stroked her chin, watching the door closely.

She could hear their voices grow closer and was relieved to hear that they were not raised in anger, merely in polite conversation. She recognised the one, Maester Liwin but she could not place the females.

She glanced towards the open window but could see no sign of the rest of the castle from the angle she was sitting. She sighed loudly but chose to lay in bed for a few moments more.

The door swung open at that moment and Everra turned her head to face them.

 _No._

A shot of ice ran to her heart as she looked at the female and her heart suddenly began to beat more wildly in her chest. A strangely warm, fierce feeling began to unravel in her stomach as her features hardened.

The girl had long brown hair pulled back into a messy braid, had a long, thin nose that suited her face well with large, round eyes that were the shade of wood. Her skin was clear of scars and other marks and she was clearly exotic, though Everra already knew that. Her lips were thin and pink and her teeth were straight and her body curvaceous, easily susceptible to have children, though Everra already knew that.

It was not hard to see why Robb had fallen for her the first time.

This, she knew, would be the hardest threat she would ever have to face.

Because the girl standing in front of her was no ordinary girl, she was the girl who caused the right side to lose the first time. Who let _him_ do the wrong thing.

Because the girl standing in front of her was Talisa Maegyr.

 **A/N DUN DUN DUN! THANKS FOR THE RESPONSE TO LAST CHAPTER GUYS! IT WAS AMAZING AND AWESOME, LIKE U GUYS. Okay, time to answer a few questions.**

 **marvelmyra: I believe your question was answered in this chapter but if I'm wrong, then Robb has not forgiven her but now he understand's her which I think in this world is more important.**

 **Saint River: First, it's good to have you back! I hadn't heard your comments in a while and I've found them to be a reliable source of guidance. To answer your question, if you look at a map of Westeros you will see the Eyrie facing the narrow sea but slightly to the left and slightly upwards is a land with no names and with a lot of mountains that face the three something. I can't remember what. So basically, the Bloodlands are that small patch of land to the left and above of the Eyrie. Hope that helps.**

 **Also, to the rest of you: RosexxScorpiusxx I'm glad you gave this story a shot and that you've enjoyed Everra's journey so far. I look forward to hearing more from you. Thanks for your support.**

 **To Sapphire1998 : I'm glad you enjoy their relationship. It's been hard for me to write convincingly and I'm glad that people enjoy it. Thanks :)**

 **And to all the rest of you, thank you so much. Please continue to tell me your thoughts.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Fiona Kevin073**

 **P.S. I think this story is coming to an end in about 10-15 chapters maybe less :( but It will be awhile until we reach that epilogue! Hope you guys stick with me until then.**


	36. Chapter 33: A Tale of Unknown Bravery

**A/N Hey guys! There are some things I would like to address. First, THANKS FOR YOUR THOUGHTS GUYS! Feel free to PM me anytime with questions, suggestions or complaints. Lol but don't expect spoilers :) Firstly, there is some material in this chapter that might make people uncomfortable. . .**

 **Secondly, when I first started this story I simply looked at a map of Westeros that looked reasonably blank and looked big enough and thought that was where the bloodlands were. I didn't really consider at the time how that might affect the actual canon world but I should have and sorry for that. However, if where the bloodlands is somehow intersects with another place, please ignore it. I will make mistakes every once in a while and well, the place looked reasonably bare so I thought, why not? As to why it is only a week from Riverrun that was just pure estimation. I think I underestimated it there and so when I finish the story I will go back and change it. But listen, it isn't set in stone or whatever, you guys can imagine it being wherever you want.**

 **Thirdly, I messed up (again) sorry :). In a few chapters previously I said that Everra's father had black hair but he does not. Everra and Jon get their raven hair from their mother, Everra's father has brown hair. Sorry about that. I'll change it soon as I can.**

 **Anyway, please continue on and thanks again! Nothing belongs to me except the original characters!**

 **Wait before i forget, I had this idea that at the end of the story :( if you guys had any suggestions or drabbles that you guys wanted me to write, about a certain scenario that didn't happen or about a small drabble about a character you guys could tell me and I could write it. For example, if you wanted me to write a drabble where this is in Modern times or Everra never comes back to Westeros etc. Just thought it would be cool! Can't wait too hear any suggestions. . . if you have any, that is :)**

Chapter 33

"Get. Out."

The words exited her lips slowly, so that she need not repeat herself.

Talisa blinked at her in surprise, her eyes widening, "My lad—"

"Get. Out" Everra gritted out, her voice cold.

Talisa blinked once, twice, her face flushing before turning on her heel and running out of the room.

Maester Liwin gaped at her in shock, his eyes incredulous.

"My lady," he breathed, "Why such coldness? The girl is a talented healer—"

"I was unaware you had stopped being a talented healer Maester Liwin," she snapped, yanking off her furs and getting out of bed, ignoring the way her muscles shifted uncomfortably.

"You mustn't be so hasty, my lady," he cried, rushing towards her, "Your stitches might rip."

"They will if she did them," she muttered under her breath, ignoring the suspicious look he sent her way.

"My lady you have been asleep for a few days," he said gently.

She allowed him to guide her towards the bed once more and waited patiently as he checked on her stitches.

"Your movements must be limited for the next few days, my lady," he told her, taking a step away from her body.

"The damages?" she asked, fingering the sleeve of her nightgown.

"Nothing we can not recover from," he replied, "There was damage to the battlements and the bridge, the front courtyards, but the inside of the castle was unharmed as were the two towers."

Everra nodded at his words, inwardly relived to hear that the damages were not too substantial.

She stood from the bed, her body losing its tense and angry frame as she looked out the window.

"May you summon my handmaiden?" she asked, her back to him.

She could feel him tense from behind her and knew that with the time it took for him to come up with a reply meant that—

"Anna's dead, isn't she?" she asked simply.

"Yes," the old man replied gravely, bowing his head.

Everra was more concerned for her raven haired older brother than the old mans grief.

 _Jon. . ._ she thought, her insides tightening as she realised that her wish had come true.

Stannis's men had killed Anna and that meant she did not have to do it herself, which meant that Jon would not hate her.

 _For now anyway,_ she thought, clasping her hands together.

"Find me another," she commanded, dismissing him.

He nodded and bowed, exiting the room with a quiet slam of the door.

* * *

Her new handmaiden was a small, thin girl whom was at the very most ten and five. Unlike Anna's yellow hair, her's was a light ginger, with freckles gracing her upper cheeks.

"Vera," she told her confidently when asked, "My name is Vera Hain."

She was very unlike Anna in more ways then one. While Anna had been quiet and soft spoken, Vera talked loudly to fill the awkward silence. While Anna had a hard time meeting her eyes, Vera— while looking slightly fearful— looked at her directly in the eyes.

Everra was not too sure whether or not she liked the change, while she admitted it was. . . _refreshing_ for one of her people to not fear her completely, she—for lack of better term, she told herself— missed the quiet, efficient way Anna would serve her.

This girl had managed to tell Everra of her two older brothers, her younger sister and her parents and her entire life story within the time of putting on her dress and doing its laces.

Everra did not stop her however and was admittedly amused by the younger girl.

"Not that my brothers know how to fight, my lady," Vera was saying, running a brush through her hair after she had finished with the laces of her dress, "But _they_ don't realise that—"

Everra stayed silent and merely listened on to her banter though she did not think it was possible for her to care less about the girls brothers, she already had one of her own to worry about.

A knock on the door.

Vera placed the brush down and walked towards the wooden door, her bun bouncing as she did so.

The door opened to reveal Jon and Everra's heart tightened slightly at the sight of her mostly uninjured brother. Though she quickly noticed that he did not seem to share her sentiment. He had glanced at Vera, his eyes growing dark with anger before snapping his gaze up to hers, his hands curling into fists.

"His grace has summoned you, my lady," he told her, though his tone struggled to stay even, "In the great hall."

Everra nodded and thanked him quietly, though her eyes never left him.

He eyed her with poorly concealed fury and disgust before stalking off, his strides brisk and stiff.

Everra let out a loud breathe as he disappeared from view and ignored Vera's questioning look.

"Don't," Everra warned, rubbing at the space between her eyebrows.

Vera winced at her tone, her eyes locked on the ground.

 _I don't have time for this,_ Everra thought.

She really, really did not.

* * *

Robb is sitting in the great hall, breaking his fast with the other Lords when Everra comes into the hall, her long, black hair unpinned and bellowing down her back to her waist. Though she still looked beautiful she looked slightly disheveled and pale, the stitched cut on the side of her cheek glaringly more apparent.

She caught sight of him easily, as he was sitting at the end of the hall at the long table, in the centre seat. The seat beside him was empty— for her— and he could see her gaze flicker towards it despite the distance between them.

Relief flooded through his veins at the sight of her and Robb stood from his chair, attracting the other Lord's attention.

Everra had finished walking towards them by then and the other Lords had rose with him and some muttered their regards and she replied her thanks.

An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach as Robb noticed that she did not look in his direction once, even though she was standing a little more than an arm length away from him.

"My lady," he announced, staring at her face intently, watching as she slowly lifted her eyes to meet his, "I am glad you are well."

"I thank his grace for his kind words," she replied, her voice cool.

Her eyes then flickered away from him to glance down the long table, her eyes narrowing.

Just as Robb was about to ask her what the problem was, she asked him, "Your grace, where is Jon?"

Robb stiffened slightly at the mention of his — their— brother and replied "I am afraid I do not know, my lady."

Everra frowned at his words before nodding her thanks and turning on her heel to walk out of the hall.

"My lady?" Robb called out for her, walking around the table, "Are you not eating?"

Everra paused and then turned back to look at him, her eyes slightly unfocused, as though she were thinking of something else, "I am afraid I lost my appetite, your grace, please forgive me for not sitting with you."

Robb frowned at her, confusion growing within him. He thought of all the things we wanted too say to her, all the things that he had dreamt of saying to her— all the things he dreamt of _doing._ All the words were just at the tip of his tongue but before he could open his mouth she was leaving the hall, her raven locks bouncing behind her as she did so.

* * *

"My lady," a voice cried out from behind her.

Everra stopped her strides to allow Lord Yullian to scramble to her, his eyes wide and his voice high.

"My Lord," she replied, watching him impassively.

"I—I just wanted to commend you on your bravery and for your aid in the battle," he rambled on aimlessly.

"This is my home," she replied.

"Yes, of course," he agreed, "But I must ask as to where Lord Edwin is? Surely he must be accompanying you?"

It occurred to Everra then that she had never sent a raven to RedRun informing them of Lord Edwin's treachery, or of Anna's for that matter.

"He's dead," she told him bluntly, "He was a traitor."

His eyes widened— almost comically before he said in disbelief, "Truly?"

"Truly," she reaffirmed.

They stood in awkward silence for a while before he came to his senses and said, "Well, sorry to have disturbed you my lady, I must continue on with my duties."

Everra frowned at this, the urge to look for Jon inside her dulling. It was times like these where Everra remembered the more. . . _boring_ parts of being a leader of a great house or any house for that matter. Reparations. However much Everra wanted to not have to do something as tedious as talking with a stonemason in times such as these, it bothered her more than she cared to admit that Lord Yullian would be the one seeing over the reparations to her home.

"Lord Yullian," she commanded swiftly, watching as the older man stopped in his tracks, flinching at the sound of her tone, "Take me to see the stonemason with you."

He cast her a surprised look, as though it was incomprehensible that she was showing any concern for her home.

"As you wish."

* * *

When Everra entered the chaos and rubble that was once the front courtyard, she barely recognised it. While it had always been busy with stable boys, knights, soldiers, children, servants roaming the front, it had always had a . . . _neatness_ too it, a sense of order. Now, it was as though one of the seven hells had broken free and torn its way into her home. Smoke still lingered up in the sky, crumbled red stone littered the floors, various walls looked as though they were on the verge of collapse. Soldiers, both wounded and healthy were scattered around various areas of the courtyard leading to the side and Everra saw Lord Yullian flinch at the sound of a man screaming in agony.

Overall, it was worse than the Maester had made it out to be, though he had been right when he said it was not permanent damage.

"Reparations must begin," Everra stated, clasping her hands together, "Do we have the coin to start?"

Lord Yullian nodded at her and told her, "The mines are still successful, my lady. If we are careful with the expenses, we should be alright."

Everra frowned at the word _should_ but kept her concerns to herself and nodded.

"Then we have a lot of work to do."

* * *

Robb walked down the hallway, his footfalls echoing around him. The day had been aimless, the only actual work Robb had done was listen to reports and read letters from Winterfell. The letters were a welcome relief in the chaos around him, a warm feeling growing in his stomach as he thought of home.

He had the opportunity to explore the castle all day by himself (a guard accompanied him, always a few meters behind him) , having waved away the servant that offered to show him around. The castle was peculiar looking and so different to Winterfell it made his heart ache but he had to admit it had its certain unique beauty. The stark redness had an undeniable appeal yet Robb still felt slightly disturbed as he walked around the castle. A chill kept on overcoming him as he took another step, it felt as though he were walking on top of graves due to the alarming resemblance the floor had to blood.

The area in front of him was for the most part deserted, though a few people were still scattered around the area. There was not much damage in this area of the castle and Robb felt slightly relieved. Guilt had begun to boil in his stomach, churning and twisting every time he looked at a dead or wounded soldier or at a ruined wall or sight.

He knew he shouldn't have felt guilty but he did anyway.

The last of Stannis's followers were either imprisoned or had fled Westeros, never to return. At least Robb hoped they would not. They had not yet heard from Stannis's daughter Shireen or his wife and Robb suspected that they might never. At least, not for a long while. Robb did not feel a particular desire to seek them out but knew his Lords might insist upon it.

 _What would be the point?_ He wondered, _Stannis is dead, his supporters are dead as well, his armies depleted. . . What use would having a child and her mother do? They had no men to raise to their aid or any support for that matter either._

Robb frowned at his thought, staring mindlessly into the sky. The sun warmed his skin, the heat becoming glaringly more apparent to Robb with every passing moment he was outside. He yearned for Winterfell now more than ever, yearned for the cold air to grace his skin, yearned for the cloudy sky and soft breeze.

He yearned for home.

An agonised scream disrupted his thoughts and Robb jumped slightly, startled. His eyes scanned the area quickly, his gaze landing on a young shoulder shouting in agony, shoving at a woman whose back was to Robb. Robb could see a hint of her long braid tucked into her shirt, could see a hint of tanned, graceful fingers and a weird feeling overcame him. It made his fingers twitch and his stomach flutter nervously and before he could fully comprehend what he was doing he was walking towards them, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

The girl was clearly struggling with the boy, whom was still determinedly shoving at her arms and yelling at her. Robb's stomach squeezed at the gruesome sight of the boys severed leg. His knee was barely connected to the upper part of his leg, allowing Robb too see the bone and blood seeping through.

"Hold still," the girl was saying, tying a cloth around his leg.

"You can't!" the boy whimpered, clutching at his leg, "You can't do this! Ser! Please, help me!"

The girl only seemed to take notice of him then, her brown eyes peering up at him for a moment before taking advantage of the boys distraction and tied another cloth closer to the wound.

Robb crouched down beside them, holding the boy down, his violent tremors shaking Robb's hands.

"Please!" the boy whimpered, his eyes wild with panic.

"If she doesn't do it, you'll die," Robb said, grabbing a hold of the boy's shirt and yanking it upward towards his mouth, "Bite on it."

The boy whimpered at the sight of the saw and Robb managed to shove the shirt in his mouth and muttered, "Lie back down if you don't want too look."

He glanced toward the girl and was suddenly aware of just how pretty she was. With her exotic features and elegant hands she would be considered beautiful by any standards and Robb knew this.

The boy cried out in pain as the sick sound of the girl sawing on his bone filled the courtyard.

By the time it was finished, the boy had passed out from shock and pain, his head lying limply on the ground. The girl shot him a look and Robb was surprised to realise that it was one of anger. He blinked at her in surprise and was startled at the feeling of the boys limp body being moved out of his hands by a man. He watched as the boy was bandaged and carried onto a wooden stretcher and slowly Robb rose from his position on the ground, suddenly aware of his blood stained hands.

He whirled around the area slightly and caught eye of the girl once more. Something propelled himself forward and he found himself walking towards her. This time, she caught eye of him earlier and with a dark look she stood from the ground, slinging her kit over her shoulder and wiped her bloodied fingers.

"What's your name?" he asked her retreating figure.

He saw her pause for a moment, before she turned back to look at him, anger lingering in her brown eyes.

"Tailsa," she replied shortly, shifting on her feet.

"Your last name?" Robb asked again, curious.

She snorted at this, her mouth twisting, "You want to know which side my family fights for?"

"You know which family I fight for," Robb told her, "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

She shrugged at him and replied shortly, "I am not involved in the fighting, merely the aftermath."

Robb looked at her for a few moments and though he felt curious to question her more, for a moment he did not. The weird feeling he had felt once before began reappearing once more and it shook him. More than he wanted to admit.

"You are brave for that," he told her and he meant it as well, "I hold great admiration for your skill yet I still seem to have angered you. Why?"

She stiffened at his question and turned on her heel, stalking away from him and yet replied, "Innocent lives are being sacrificed for _your_ war—"

"My war?" Robb asked, bristling, "This is not _my_ war. This is the North's war, the South's War and everything in between. It is not _my_ war. I did not start it or ask for one."

"And yet you continue to fight," she said stubbornly, stopping in her tracks, "You continue to let innocents die, despite you claiming you don't want to fight."

"It is not that simple," he stated, his voice cold.

Talisa let out a bitter laugh at this before replying, "That's what they all say."

She walked away from him after that and this time Robb let her, all the while unaware of the green eyes watching the exchange.

* * *

The unfamiliar feeling that boiled inside her as she watched the two of them was spreading quickly throughout her body, making her blood boil. Her hands clenched slightly at her side as she watched Robb shake his head at her retreating figure, his auburn curls falling over his eyes.

Everra quickly moved back into the shadows, hiding herself from his blue eyes. She frowned and placed a hand on her stomach, the feeling inside her rushing to her heart which thumped quicker in response, the sound loud in Everra's ears. It was a feeling that made her insides churn in anger and bitterness and though Everra knew what it was, she would not admit it to herself.

 _Fool,_ she cursed herself, _you bloody fool._

She leaned froward from where she rested against the wall and with one glance at Robb once more, she hurried down the hallway.

Love was a fickle thing, she knew this like she knew the back of her own palm. Love was dangerous and deadly yet Everra knew it was powerful. Even more powerful than fear. Fear was what she had in her favour. Fear made him go to war, fear for his sisters made him stay at war but fearful of the wrath of Lord Frey on the other hand. . .

Everra frowned as wandered, her mind deep in thought. While Robb did know the truth now—except about Talisa— Everra did not know how that. . . affected him. He was shocked and surprised and hurt but Everra could not tell how Robb was affected by this knowledge.

 _Would he still fall in love with her?_ she wondered and she grew cold at the thought.

She stopped her strides, her legs feeling like stone.

 _Could he still fall in love with her?_

Another sliver of ice shot up her spine at the thought and the flash of fear that erupted in her stomach startled her. Her green eyes widened at the feeling before being overcome by a cold, etched feeling.

 _The only way to make sure he does not fall in love with her,_ she thought, _is too make him fall in love with someone else._

Everra remembered the old woman' words, remembered how she said that what happened that night that Lord Edwin died may have to happen again.

A sigh escaped her mouth at the thought.

 _Perfect,_ she thought, _just perfect._

She continued on walking absentmindedly before her shoulder collided with someone else and it made her take a few steps back in shock. It took her only a few seconds to realise that the person was Jon and she opened her mouth to speak before he could leave.

"Jon," she called out, "I've been trying to find you since I saw you this morning."

Jon stiffened at her words, his brown eyes unreadable.

"Apologies my lady, I was—"

A flash of grief appeared in his eyes as his sentence cut off abruptly and silence grew between them once more. Everra took the moment to truly look at her brother and nearly frowned at the black circles under his eyes and the unnatural paleness of his skin. Some people wore grief like a mask and some wore it like a bag of bricks on their shoulders. It was obvious to Everra that Jon was the latter.

"I'm. . . sorry," she told him, "I heard about A—"

"Don't," he said harshly, cutting her off.

Everra blinked. Once. Twice.

"I beg your pardon—"

"Don't tell me about your false grief, my lady," Jon told her coldly, "I see that you have replaced her easily enough."

Everra's eyes narrowed at him warningly as she replied, "Should I not have a handmaiden for the rest of my life simply because a handmaiden I had once died? I did not even have her for a long while—"

"She was loyal too you," Jon spat at her, his voice venomous, "Which is more than I can say for the majority of your household."

Everra nearly laughed in his face at his words.

"Was she now?' she asked him cooly, "Are you sure about that?"

They glared at each other furiously, the air thickening round them but even through the blind rage and grief in Jon's eyes, Everra saw the flicker of doubt in them, the flicker of fear. She felt oddly triumphant at the look in his eye before he cleared his throat.

"Forgive me, my lady," Jon said, brushing past her, "I must go say my goodbyes to Anna's father."

Her hand wrapped around his arm like a vice, "You aren't leaving."

She wasn't sure whether or not she was saying it as a command or a question. Regardless, Jon did not seem to notice as he replied, "No."

Everra could practically hear the _but._

"He's dying. The Maester said he only had a few days at the very most."

* * *

Everra waited for many hours before she approached the side of the castle where she knew she could find him. Part of her was urging her not too and the other half was resigned to her actions, merely keeping quiet.

Though the door was wooden and heavy, Everra could still hear the sound of the man's harsh coughs and whispers of pain and she opened the door quietly, listening to it creak.

The healer jumped at the sight of her, her eyes widening.

"My lady," she exclaimed, falling into a curtsy, "I did not expect you hear. No one sent word—"

"You were not sent a word because I did not tell anyone to send one," Everra interrupted her swiftly.

The girl cast an awkward glance towards the man, clutching onto the cloth in her hands tightly.

"I wasn't aware you knew him, my lady," she said lightly, "I heard that the last of his family died, quite recently I might add."

If she noticed Everra's coldness it did not show.

"He keeps asking for her,' she said quietly, her voice a mere whisper.

That caught Everra's attention.

"For who?"

"I don't know," the girl admitted, "I think his daughter or his wife, maybe."

Everra cast a glance towards the man and gestured for the girl to pass her the cloth, which she did.

"Leave us," she commanded coldly, walking towards the foot of the bed.

The girl left hurriedly but closed the door softly behind her.

Everra stood there for a while, simply watching the man whimper and wither in his bed. His grey hair was damp with sweat. His tan skin had grown more pale and sickly from her memory and his thin mouth was dry and wide open, his whimpers of pain filling the room.

Everra walked to the side of the bed, to where the healer was sitting and sat down.

The man turned to face her blindly, muttering incoherently.

Everra merely lifted the cloth to his head and patted his head gently.

"I don't know if you remember me," she said gently. He stilled at her words, his groans stopping as he listened, "I was only a girl when I last saw you."

Her green eyes tightened at the memory before she glanced down to look at him once more.

"I was six, I believe. Approaching seven. I had wanted to talk to you for a while," she said gently, grabbing a hold of his shaking hand, "For many years. They say that children have a short memory. That they forget what they ate the day before last. I don't know if thats true but for me it was not. I remembered your wife. She was a kind woman. And she made my mother happy. I was sad when she died, even sadder about _how_ she died. It took me two years to muster the courage to talk to you. Two years."

"I'm not going to apologise for the grief that has once again come to you," she continued, "I will not pretend that I had any intentions of forgiving your daughter for her treachery. But what I will say is is that I admire your bravery. It may not be the most obvious kind of bravery or the most well known but it is bravery nonetheless. I admired it as a girl and I admire it now."

She removed her hand from the corpse and was surprised to find that the man had just taken his last breath.

* * *

Catelyn Stark was conflicted. She had always had a strict moral code since she was a girl. The word's of her house were branded into her skin, into her hair. _Family. Duty. Honour._ Yet that did nothing to edge the guilt that grown within her since her son had woken from his drug induced sleep. The flash of betrayal and hurt in his blue eyes — so like her own— felt like a thousand daggers being plunged straight into her chest.

She did what she had to do for her family. She followed her duty as a mother— yet why did she feel as though she had not? As though she had betrayed every ever part of her being by scheming with Lady Everra to prevent her son from going to a battle that would have gotten him killed.

Catelyn froze at the thought and felt a sliver of gratefulness grow in her belly at the fact that Robb had not been the one to fight Stannis.

 _Family. Duty. Honour._

All she wanted to do was rest for the rest of her life and mourn for the loss of her husband. For the loss of Ned. It pained her to think of his dark eyes and of how his laugh sounded and how his smile warmed her to her very core. She could feel the pangs of grief begin to creep up on her as they did in the dead hours of the night and shook them away.

She had barely left her room the entire day and when she had it had only been to move inside the castle. An air of hostility appeared whenever she walked into a room that held only Bloodmen and Catelyn was far too drained to question it.

 _War,_ she told herself, _it all comes down to war._

The sun had begun to set and she looked out from her window and was nearly mesmerised by the sight. The feeling did not last long however, as she began to miss the dark stone of Winterfell and slowly turned away from the window and walked to the hearth, trying to keep warm.

She could not help but feel that it would not be the last time her and Lady Everra dug their graves together in the name of her son.

* * *

"Marriage."

The word slipped from her mouth faster than she could have thought.

Robb did not meet her gaze since the words had exited his mouth and Everra tried to ignore the feeling of all the eyes in the room on her.

"To Oberyn Martell?" she asked, her eyes searching across the sea of faces.

"Yes," Lord Bolton spoke loudly, attracting her attention.

 _Why haven't I killed you yet?_ She thought scathingly.

"If you are willing, for our King."

Everra stiffened slightly at his words but made sure that she looked detached from the conversation— from the suggestion.

"Very well," she said, clasping her hands together.

 _It could be worse. . ._

Everra waited until after all the other Lords had gone before she approached Robb, who avoided looking into her eyes.

"Lady Everra I—"

"I have something to discuss with you," she told him, ignoring his look of surprise.

Robb blinked at her in surprise, his blue eyes widening.

"Speak freely, my lady—"

"Not here," she said, glancing around meaningfully, "I'll send Andromache for you later on in the evening your grace. She will show you where to go."

Robb nodded at her, though he still looked slightly confused.

"It's important," she told him softly.

 _Oh how it was indeed._

* * *

Everra tied the laces of her robe together, watching as Vera filled the bath with steaming water. Her stomach fluttered as she clutched a cup of wine in her hands and brought it up to her lips to take a large gulp.

"Is it wise to be drinking so late at night, my lady?" Vera asked.

Everra glanced at her an uncomfortable feeling rising in her throat, "I don't have you hear to question my actions."

Vera's cheeks warmed at her words and she looked down at her feet.

"Go," Everra stated, gesturing towards the door, "Your done for the evening."

Vera snapped her head to look up at her but still looked wary, "My lady do you not need help after you bathe—"

"Go," Everra snapped at her, taking another sip of wine.

Vera left the room hurriedly, understanding that Everra was not in an agreeable mood. Everra glanced towards Andromache to find her already staring up at her, her head tilted to the side.

"You know what you have to do," she told her gently, walking towards the wooden door.

Andromache leapt off the bed and purred loudly as she stretched. She patted over towards Everra, her tale wagging around slowly behind her as she moved.

"Keep watch when you get back," is all Everra told her before she shut the door, leaving Andromache in the darkness of the hallway.

Everra glanced towards the steaming bath and walked towards it before reaching up for the laces holding her robe together and gently untied it, exposing her bare body to the warm air from the fire. She slid her arms out of the silk robe before climbing into the warm bath, her muscles instantly relaxing against the soothing feeling. Yet, her mind was filled with thoughts.

 _You are whoring yourself,_ she thought bitterly, shifting against the back of the bath.

Everra remembered the first time. She remembered how his kisses had felt and though it did little to calm the storm inside of her she clung to the one thing that did.

 _He can't die. . . He won't die._

* * *

When Robb reaches the front of Everra's door that led to her bed chambers he did not know he was there. The castle was dark and silent, its inhabitants having retreated into their chambers in an attempt for sleep. He only realised he was there because of the small light being emitted from the small space between the floor and her door and gently knocked at the door.

He heard a quiet murmur coming from inside the room and so he took it as a confirmation and opened it, stepping into the room. He frowned at Andromache as she did not come in and instead lay herself on the stone outside the door. He let the door close quietly and glanced around the room, his skin growing alarmingly hot as he caught sight of Everra still in her bath, glaringly naked.

"Excuse me, my lady," he muttered, glancing away from her and "I thought you said it was alright for me too come in."

For a moment she did not reply but Robb still kept his gaze focused steadily on the ground, his blood rushing to his ears. He heard her get out of the water and tried to prevent his mind from remembering how her body had looked beneath his all those weeks ago.

"Robb," she told him gently, "It's alright."

Robb only raised his gaze slowly and was. . . _surprised_ to find that she had not fully covered herself from his view and was instead merely patting herself with a towel.

He felt warm all over his body and he tried to prevent his eyes from drifting down her body.

"Your not a child Robb," she said flippantly, as though she were not standing naked in front of him, "Besides," she added, "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

Robb scowled at this and replied hotly, "My lady, I am not proud of my actions that night—"

Everra scoffed loudly at him and dropped the towel on the ground and sauntered towards him, her hips swaying as she moved.

 _Don't look down don't look down don't look down_

Robb tried his best to look unaffected as she stood in front of him, even though he could feel his breeches grow uncomfortably tight. She seemed to notice as well, if her small smirk said anything. The air around them had thickened significantly, making it hard for Robb to breathe.

"Why are you trying to seduce me?" he tried japing, though his eyes seemed to drift down to her lips.

Everra raised an eyebrow at him, "Seduce?" she asked, as though something were funny, "Who said I'm trying to seduce you?"

Robb flushed at this, though he tried to hide it desperately.

She took a step closer towards him and Robb could have sworn then and there that he could feel her body heat radiating out towards him. His arms were limp at his side as she reached up to begin unlacing his clothing. Robb knew he should stop her but he didn't. By the old gods and new he did not reach up and stop her.

She was so close to him now that he could every curve of her body against his, could feel the shape of her breasts against his chest and lust boiled in his stomach and the urge to press his lips to hers had never been more strong. But he couldn't let himself do it. He couldn't.

Robb glanced down and was surprised to find that all the lacing on his tunic and vest had been undone already and he gulped loudly.

 _Stop her,_ he yelled at himself.

He didn't.

He let her shift his clothing up over his head and watched her with heat in his eyes as she dropped the clothing onto the floor. He reached behind her head to let the hair pin go free and watched as her hair immediately tumbled down to her waste. She leaned forward slightly and began pressing kisses onto his chest and Robb felt his desire grow as she worked her way up to his neck, his breath becoming louder and louder.

"I can stop you know," she whispered against his skin, "Just say the word and I'll stop."

She nuzzled his neck seductively and Robb had to prevent himself from groaning aloud at the sensation.

 _Stop!_ He yelled at himself, _Think of what your parents taught you._

She seemed to sense him withdrawing and what she said next made the blood in his veins alight with a roar of fire.

"Perhaps I'll just wait for Oberyn."

She said it to provoke him, he knew it. She made not effort to hide it, yet in that moment it didn't matter to Robb as he pressed his lips to hers ferociously. The fire inside of him growing larger and larger with every touch or nip that passed between their lips. He sunk his fingers in her hair and moved them backwards towards the bed. They paused for a moment, separating so Everra could work on the laces of his breeches and she shoved them down his legs quickly, leaving them both naked. They surged towards each other once more, their lips locked together as Robb hoisted Everra up into the air by her waist and her legs automatically wrapped his hips and her arms around his neck as they moved forward to the bed.

 **A/N Not gonna lie, that last part was bloody uncomfortable to write guys. . . uhhh hope you enjoyed it?**

 **Until next time,**

 **FionaKevin073**


	37. Chapter 34: The Art of Staying

**A/N WARNING THERE IS SENSITIVE AND TRIGGERING MATERIAL IN THIS CHAPTER! I own nothing expect the original characters.**

Chapter 34

When Robb woke he did not remember where he was and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust. He was wrapped in furs and sheets, his body relaxed and content from the warmth of the furs and fire. Robb suddenly remembered where he was— who he was with— and was suddenly aware of his nakedness.

Robb found that he could not quite move just yet— too relaxed and content to simply lay there than to actually get out. He peered at the window and saw that the sun had not yet risen and let out a breath he did not realise he had been holding.

He shifted in the furs and his arm patted the space beside him, expecting to find her lying there next to him.

She wasn't.

Alarm spread through Robb as his arm travelled further to his side in search of her but to no avail. The bed was still warm beside him however, her indent still visible.

"Your awake," she commented and Robb snapped his head in her direction.

She was wearing a thin black robe that tied at her waist and was casually sipping at something in her chalice. She was standing near the foot of the bed, towering over him from where she stood.

"I am," Robb replied stupidly, instantly cursing himself for his statement.

He rose into a sitting position, positioning himself so that he supported himself up with his elbows. The furs slipped off his chest as he did so, exposing his bare chest to her eyes.

 _She had seen far more_ he thought and felt a twinge of shame in his stomach at the thought of what they did. He could see the bruises from his kisses all across her exposed chest, could see how her hair was tangled together in a way that could only suggest one thing. Heck, Robb could even feel the delicious soreness in his body, could feel his messy curls lay atop of his forehead from where she had tugged at them.

It was hard to be ashamed when he thought of it like that but when the larger implications of their actions crept into his mind, the fear Robb felt in his stomach was greater than he had ever felt before.

"No," she said sharply, placing down her chalice on a table and crawled on top of her side of the bed.

Robb frowned at her but did not move away.

"No what?" he jested, trying to lighten the air. She ignored his attempt with a blink of an eye and shifted even closer towards him, so that he had no where else to look but in her eyes.

"You know what," she told him— he did— "Do not feel guilty."

Robb gulped loudly and looked at anything but her— the ceiling, the furs, his hands, her chin, anything but her eyes for he knew that if he did she would know what he was thinking.

"I gave myself to you willingly," she told him harshly, "Knowing full well the potential consequences of our actions but I did it anyway. We are both to be married to our respective partners—"

"He has not said yes yet," Robb interrupted.

She paused for a moment before continuing, "No," she acknowledged, "He hasn't agreed to the match _yet._ Regardless, you will marry the Frey girl."

Robb felt his insides bristle at her words and he snapped back, "I have dishonoured you."

He could practically feel her roll her eyes at him.

"You Starks and your honour," she said, as though it amused her, "I swear, you love it more than a fish loves water."

Robb's blue eyes narrowed at her as he responded, "I hardly think that you could call me honourable after all I've done."

"It is not our actions that make us honourable," she told him, her voice unusually gentle, "It is our intentions."

He felt her finger under his chin and allowed her to nudge his head in her direction, so that he met her gaze.

"I am attracted too you," she told him bluntly, "Physically. Obviously, you return the same sentiment. We are two adults who made a conscious decision to meet our needs in order to work together as best we can in order to win."

Robb let out a small chuckle at that and said, "You make it sound as though what we did was merely having a glass of water in order to stop being thirsty."

There was silence for a few moments before he said quietly, "What if someone finds out?"

He leaned back against the wooden headboard and was startled to the feeling of her swinging a leg over his hips so that either one was on each side as she straddled him.

She cupped his face in her hands and tilted up to face her, a worried blue meeting a sharp green.

"I'll take care of it," she whispered and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

Robb responded slowly to her touch, something in his chest sinking at the implications of her 'suggestion'. Yet that feeling was quickly overcome by the sensation of her touch and her kisses that it slipped from his mind, replaced with the sensation of her body on top of his.

* * *

Everra broke her fast with Lord Yullian and Maester Liwin that same morning, slowly eating her food.

The only sound in her solar was that of their knives and forks scratching against the plates. She wiped her mouth with the napkin beside her plate and carefully laid down her utensils, eyeing them both closely.

"What is it?" she demanded.

They both jumped at the sound of her voice, each of them sending a wary glance each others way.

"Something is bothering the both of you," she said, her eyes flicking between them, "What is it?"

Maester Liwin swallowed loudly before his eyes met hers and Everra saw the sudden strength that had formed in them.

"My lady the Bloodlands have been ruled by your family since the beginning of its formation," Maester Liwin started, "And always it has had the support of _three other_ noble houses. Now, in the War, you only have one noble house left. One house you murdered—"

"Murdered?" she challenged, her eyes growing colder, "I don't consider it murder when I kill those who were planning on doing the same to me."

"Forgive me my lady," he said, his old voice tired and drained, "Perhaps I should say, one house you _dealt with_ and the other remaining member of the last house was killed by the King you decided to follow."

Everra noticed the emphasis on it being her decision.

"Yes," she said, "I chose to follow the King in the North because I believed it would be the better option."

"Better option?" Lord Yullian burst out, his cheeks flushed, "The Lannister's offered you gold—"

"We have gold," she snapped, her glare deadly.

"My lady what I think Lord Yullian is trying to say is that on the whole, we do not understand why you thought siding with the Starks would be the better option," Maester Liwin interjected smoothly, "They are not as rich as the Lannister's or as powerful, in many ways siding with them would have furthered improved your lands prospects, my lady."

"I made a decision based on who I thought would be the better leader," she stated, her voice hard and unwavering, "Once Tywin Lannister is dead, the Lannister's will crumble and it's oh-so-precious legacy will be left in the hands of Cersei and Jaime Lannister. The incestuous twins who brought about a war because Cersei couldn't control their vicious bastard son."

"Lord Tyrion—"

"If you really think that Tywin Lannister would leave this earth in the hands of his deformed son you are a greater fool than I thought, Lord Yullian," she snapped, watching as he fell silent.

Silence followed for a few moments before she rose from her chair and addressed them both, "I understand that I threw you both into a war blindly and that I made decisions without your council or any regard for either of you. But make no mistake, this is my home and I haven't forgotten that. I was born to lead this land and I will continue to do so until the day I die. For now, however, I have to help win a war. Until either of you are on that battlefield or in the camps counselling every day then I suggest you keep your complaints to yourselves.

She left the room without another word from either of them.

* * *

"All the Lannister forces have fled into King's Landing," Lord Flint said, tracing the map, "They know that is where we are going to strike."

Robb nodded in agreement and asked, "The Tyrells? Have they officially declared for the Lannister's?"

"No, your grace," someone else replied.

A flash of relief shot through Robb at the words and he closed his eyes for a moment before gazing down at the map in front of him.

"Any word from Dorne?"

"No, your grace," Everra said from across the table, "But bear in mind that the raven was only sent a few days ago, your grace, the raven will only arrive by tomorrow at the utmost earliest and I suspect it will take them a few weeks to deliberate on their answer."

"Aye, your grace," Roose Bolton agreed, "But keep in mind that while Prince Oberyn craves for vengeance for his sister and her children, Prince Doran is a far more cautious man. It will take a great deal of convincing for him to side with us, especially given the delicate. . . _history_ between your two houses."

There was a beat before Everra spoke, "Lord Bolton raises a valuable point," it sounded as though it were hard for her to admit, "You have a choice your grace, stay here and wait for their reply or we leave."

"And go where?" he asked, not looking up from the map, his voice strained.

"Back to the Westerlands and lay siege on Casterly Rock," she suggested and Robb could see some Lord's nod at the thought.

It didn't seem right to leave now. Robb frowned and grabbed a hold of a landmark, twirling it in his fingers as he thought.

"No," he declared, placing it back on the map, "We stay until we hear a reply from Dorne."

Everra nodded at him and said, "As you wish, your grace."

He turned towards Roose Bolton, who was looking at him blankly, his usual aloofness in his blue eyes.

"Lord Bolton," Robb addressed him, "What do you think?"

He blinked at Robb for a few short moments, his eyes unreadable. "I think that is a wise choice, your grace."

Robb did not forget how the words echoed in his head all those weeks ago, he did not forget the feeling of a knife slipping into his chest as the man beside him whispered, _The Lannister's send their regards._

He did not forget, nor would he ever. Yet until he found a sliver of proof that indicate him of treason, Robb could do nothing.

"Have we heard word from Dragonstone?" he asked.

"Dragonstone?" Marge Mormormont asked, surprised, "From Selyse Baratheon? Your grace I suspect she and the child must have fled to the other side of the world by now. The Baratheon line is dead now and will be until the end of times."

"What about Stannis's daughter? Have we heard from her?"

"Your grace why would you want to hear from the daughter of a man who wanted you dead?" Everra asked.

Robb glanced at her, his blue eyes lingering on her face, "She didn't. It seems a pity to leave her with her mother. I have heard terrible rumours of her mistreatment."

Silence followed shortly after before Robb commanded the cupbearer, "Send a raven to dragonstone asking of Princess Shireen's whereabouts and offer her safe passage onto the mainland—"

"Your grace," Everra protested, her green eyes narrowed.

Robb ignored her for a moment before commanding once more, "The Baratheons and Starks used to be firm allies," he pointed out, "Why not keep the last true Baratheon as our friend rather than our enemy, my lady?"

She didn't answer him and instead stayed quiet, as did many others.

"This council has ended," Robb said, "We will meet again tomorrow."

The Lords and Ladies left the room slowly or at least it felt slow until the only people left in the room was Robb, Everra and Greywind. The door was firmly shut, looking far more formidable than a door ever should.

"Is keeping the Baratheon close the wisest decision your grace?" she asked, staring at him.

Robb's back was too her as he poured himself a glass of wine, the cupbearer having left to send the raven.

"What's the saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

"Wise words, your grace."

Robb snorted at her words and turned to look at her, his gaze softening.

"The girl could garner sympathy in the future and rally people to her cause," he pointed out, "Besides, I've heard her mother is vicious and bitter towards her over her being unable to give him a son."

"And you think she would willingly hand you her only child when one of your banner men killed her husband?"

"No," Robb admitted, taking a sip, "But I'm not asking _her_ , I'm asking the child."

She walked towards him then and gently took the cup out of his hands and placed it on the table he was leaning against.

She stared at him for a long while, unblinking.

"Everra what is it?" he asked, his voice harder than he intended.

"You're feeling guilty," she commented, her sharp stare softening slightly, "Why?"

 _Damn_ he thought, scowling.

"No I'm not," he snapped.

She placed her hands on both sides of his face, forcing him to meet her eyes, "You are. Don't lie to me Robb, I can tell when your lying."

"I'm not lying," he said and even to himself he sounded like a child.

"I know _you,_ " she told him.

Robb let out a loud sigh and his gaze flickered down for a moment, before looking resigned.

"You do," he admitted, "Perhaps better than anyone."

Her hands slowly left his face as she asked, "What's wrong?"

Robb couldn't tell what she was thinking, her green eyes detached and sharp.

"I could have wed you back in Winterfell, you know," he told her, "That was once a serious consideration. The King had asked my father to propose the marriage to you but he said no. _I_ said no—"

"I know," she said.

Robb stopped his words, floored by her words, "What?"

"I know," she admitted, "The King would not have asked me to go all the way to Winterfell if he had not planned on me staying there, Robb."

He let out a defeated sigh and gazed at her, to find her already looking at him.

He leaned forward and kissed her softly, not to initiate any lovemaking or what not but simply because it felt _right._

The kiss lasted a few mere seconds before she pulled away from him and leaned her forehead against his. Their faces were so close together the bridge of their noses touched and their breaths mingled together as one.

Her soft fingers were on his wrist, gently stroking him there and Robb relaxed at the feeling, a sense of peace filling him.

"I should have said yes," he told her, meaning it with all his being.

She didn't answer though Robb noticed she never stopped stroking his hand.

* * *

Everra left the room first a few short minutes after and Robb watched her as she did, the door closing softly behind her. Him and Greywind shared a look and Robb tilted his head as he looked at his loyal friend and smiled at him. Grey wind let out a small sound at that and nudged his head by Robb's hip.

He was nearly fully grown and Robb could see the wary glances people still sent their way, he had heard the tales of how he rode into battle on the back of direwolf and it made him laugh. He patted his head with his gloved hand and looked down at him, his chest heavy.

"Lets go Greywind."

* * *

Robb is in the back gardens near the lavender tree when he hears a large gasp of surprise from behind him and turns around to see Talisa a few meters behind him, her brown eyes wide as she stared at Greywind.

"Grey wind," Robb said sharply, "To me."

Grey wind bounded towards him, breathing loudly and settled himself at Robb's side. Robb had just finished writing letters to Winterfell and sorting out guard schedules and scouts. The air inside the castle had grown too suffocating for him to handle and he had fled to the gardens in the hopes of a much needed break.

"Apologies, my lady," he told her, "He will not harm you."

She nodded at him, though she still looked uneasy. Robb then noticed the large bag slung over one of her shoulders. Her hair was still in the same messy braid and the sleeves of her dress were stained with blood and dirt. She held a wet cloth in her long hands and she was absentmindedly wiping her dirty hands with it.

"Apologies, your grace," she said, diverting her eyes from his, "I interrupted you, I shall leave you in peace—"

"No," Robb said softly, "Stay, some company would be nice."

He sat back down on the stone bench. From his view he could see the back of the lavender tree and from behind it looked larger than it did from the front, surprisingly. Robb's heart twisted at the thought of the last time he'd been there and it took him a few moments to realise that she had sat down beside him on the bench, though not directly next to him.

"Do you come here often, your grace?" she asked softly, her gaze landing on the beautiful purple.

Robb shook his head and muttered, "No. Just once before when the battle was won."

Talisa nodded awkwardly and fiddled with her hands. Robb cast her a glance and was suddenly reminded once more of her beauty by the way the sun hit her through the tree, making her skin seem to glow. Yet, he didn't feel _attracted_ to her. He recognised that she was beautiful and yet he felt nothing of it.

"Your grace, may I ask you something?"

Robb frowned slightly as a cool breeze swept over them but he nodded nonetheless.

"Did you ever want to be king?" she asked quietly.

Robb looked at her then, his gaze observant.

"I. . ." he hesitated, not sure of what to say, "I thought of being King when I was very young, especially when I learned of the previous King's in the north but I never thought it was a possibility." His mouth twisted at the irony and he muttered, "Obviously I was wrong."

She let out a breathy laugh at that and Robb found himself smiling at the sound.

"My apologies, your grace," she said, blushing slightly.

"Where are you from?" Robb asked her, curious.

"Volantis," she admitted, sheepish.

"Volantis!" he exclaimed, surprised. "You're far from home."

She shrugged at him and closed her eyes as a breeze swept over them once more, rustling her hair and Robb's curls.

"I must leave, my lady," he said, rising.

She opened her eyes at that, startled and nodded, "I understand, your grace. It was a pleasure speaking with you."

"And I with you," he said and nodded at her, "Have a pleasant evening."

"Likewise, your grace."

They smiled at each other briefly before Robb turned on his heel and walked back to the front of the castle, the walk relaxing. Construction had begun and though the change was not that evident yet, Robb suspected that if they stayed as long as he thought they would, the castle would be fully repaired.

The thought made the heavy lump in his chest lighten a little but his heart still tightened at the thought of his men going into battle without him because of his mother and his—

Banner man? Advisor? Friend? Lover?

Robb did not know anymore.

He wasn't sure he wanted to. Grey wind ran off in front of him, his tail wagging and Robb almost smiled at the sight.

When he reached the front of the castle he climbed up the stairs, Grey wind following him at his heels. It occurred to Robb that he had not seen his mother all day nor the blonde woman who was her guard. Robb was not quite sure whether or not he had completely forgiven either of them for their actions but he knew he would one day.

He entered the castle and wondered around it for a while, the sun beginning to set. He went to his chambers and found his squire, Olyvar there and it suddenly occurred to Robb that this man was his betrothed brother, whomever that woman may be.

"Olyvar?" he asked carefully, "Are you particularly close to any of your sisters?"

His squire looked rather confused as to what he was getting at before his tense features smoothened and he replied, "No, your grace. I'm afraid there was so many of us over the years, bastards and true born and so many different mothers we did not. . .we _could not_ be close with any of them."

Robb felt slightly disappointed at the thought as he had hoped his squire knew someone. Robb liked Olyvar more than he had expected he would and the lad was loyal to him and honest. Robb appreciated that.

"May I ask why the sudden interest, your grace?" Olyvar asked him.

Robb's mind flashed to Everra and her deadly green eyes and passionate touches and he found he could not answer.

* * *

Robb is walking down a lone hallway when he see's Everra for the first time since the afternoon and his stomach tightens as he looks at her.

"Your grace," she says from across the hallway, walking towards him, "I have been looking for you."

Robb tries to stop his eyebrows from raising in question. It takes a lot more effort than he thought.

"Your lady mother asked me to search for you," she continues, glancing back at Olyvar and the guard behind him, "She said it was quite urgent."

Robb frowned at that and nodded saying, "Take me to her."

He glanced back at Olyvar and the guard and said to them, "You both may go, I will return as soon as I can."

"As you command, your grace," they tell him and turn on their heels to walk away.

Everra is already striding down the hallway in the other direction and Robb catches up to her in a few quick steps, his heart pounding.

"Is she alright?" he asks her as they take a sharp turn down a narrow corridor and she does not answer as she yanks open a door and strides into the room.

The door has barely shut behind them before Robb finds himself slammed against it, her mouth on his.

A first he is to shocked to respond before his lips quickly begin to return her movements and he is overcome by the warm, fiery feeling within him spreading around his body. They fight each other furiously for a few moments, the only sound in the room being that of their lips smashing together before she tugs at his lower lip and Robb lets out a small groan at the sensation.

"I thought you said my mother needed me," he tells her in between kisses, his hands reaching for the back of her dress.

She draws away from him for a moment, one eyebrow raising, "Does it look like your mother is in here?"

Robb lets out a small amused chuckle at that before her lips crash against him once more and they both work to rip each others clothes off before eventually giving up, too unwilling to move away from each other to fully undress the other.

Robb manages to flip them so that she is pressed against the door instead of him. By this point her dress has began to sag as he managed to undo the back of her laces and he tugs at it so that he can press open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

* * *

They finish quickly and Everra looks down at him from where she is top of him and watches his chest rise from exertion. Sweat glistens both of their chest and Everra feels more tired than she would expect. Their eyes meet each other as Robb runs a hand through his hair and gives her a small smile. Everra did not return it as she shifted off his hips with a small wet sound and stood on her shaky legs.

Her anger with him was gone now, the furious feeling having dulled in her chest as she thought of the two of _them_ smiling at each other and laughing.

She hadn't seen them but she had been told of their meeting once more by the 'little birds' she had placed throughout the castle, watching Talisa's movements. She heard him behind her and she reached for her small clothes and began dressing once more. When she was nearly dressed, only the laces of her dress needing to be done, Robb wrapped a arm around her waist and pulled her towards his chest, so that he was hugging her from behind. She stiffened at the action, yet made no move to stop him.

"We must go," she told him stiffly, the kisses on the side of her neck stopping.

She could practically feel him frown as he pointed out, "You dragged me in here."

Everra did not respond to his words or his actions and she heard him sigh from behind her, though he did not let her go.

"How did you know?" he asked her after a few moments, his voice light.

"How did I know what?" she asked, perhaps too sharply.

"That Jon was your brother?"

Everra swallowed loudly as her hands clasped together, "My mother used to keep a journal," she admitted, "I read it shortly after my father died."

"Did your father know?"

Everra turned in his arms slightly to look at him, green catching blue, "I'm not sure he knew Jon was her's but he knew that they had once been lovers. That is why we have no godswood, he burnt it down."

Robb looked shocked at her words before he let her go, "What did you do with it?" he asked, tugging on his tunic.

"I hid the journal," she told him, struggling to reach the back of her dress.

"You didn't burn it?" he questioned, surprised.

"I planned to," she admitted with a sigh, "But I could not bring myself too."

Robb sighed at her as he watched her struggle to do her laces and so he walked behind her, fully clothes and grasped the laces, his fingers brushing against the skin of her back.

"Let me," he whispered and Everra nodded, allowing him.

There was silence for a while before he asked her one last question.

"Are you doing this because you want a man to warm your bed or because you want me?"

Green eyes met a vulnerable blue as she turned to look at him, her stomach clenching in her stomach.

She merely gave him a brief kiss in response.

* * *

The room was a small one, cluttered with all the things a healer would have in their chambers.

Everra did not knock and merely entered the chamber, her coldness set in stone on her face.

Tailsa jumped at the sight of her and pressed a hand to her chest, "My lady I—"

"I want you to leave by first light." Everra cut her off sharply, her voice firm and unwavering.

Talisa's hand dropped to her side, a flush rising to her cheeks. The expression on her face was one of discomfort and unease, as though she did not know what to do with herself.

 _Good._

"Pack your things, your belongings and go." Everra stressed out the last word, her voice venomous, "No goodbyes, no explanations, nothing."

"Why?" Talisa asked brazenly.

"Why what?" Everra retorted, observing her with cold eyes.

"Why must I go?" the girl asked simply, her brown eyes latched onto her green ones.

"Because I say so," Everra snapped and turned on her heel.

"Is it because of him?" she called after her, her voice light.

Everra froze in her steps, her back stiffening and the anger lingering beneath the surface began to grow.

"Excuse me?" she asked coldly.

Talisa was nervous—rightfully so— her hands shaking at her sides but her brown eyes held their own against her vicious green.

"Is it because of my relationship with the King—"

"There is no relationship," Everra interrupted smoothly.

"Then why are you sending me away?"

The girl was perceptive, Everra would give her that and brave but ultimately foolish.

"Because I want too," she replied flippantly.

"The King told me of his betrothal to the Frey girl," Talisa cried out.

Everra raised a thin eyebrow at her, "Is that so?"

Talisa shifted uncomfortably, her hands clasping together in front of her.

"He deserves to be loved and—"

"He is _not_ your's too love," Everra hissed, taking a few threatening steps forward towards her.

"Neither is he yours."

The anger in Everra's eyes grew colder and more deadly as she stared the Volantene down. Talisa sensed the dangerous change in her and seemed to take a few wary steps back, her brown eyes wide and fearful though she did not look break their gaze.

"I beg your pardon?' Everra asked, abnormally sweetly.

Talisa swallowed uncomfortably, her voice small, "I said, neither is he yours."

"I heard what you said," Everra snapped, her false sweetness gone with a blink of an eye, "What I am asking, is whether or not you have any idea what your talking about?"

Talisa flinched at her tone and looked down at the floor, her hands grasping onto her dress.

"Do you?" Everra grounded out.

Talisa shook her head limply and did not look up from the ground.

"Let me make myself abundantly clear," Everra said coldheartedly, "I know where you come from. I know about your _dear, darling_ younger brother and I know all about your little sob story." She stepped closer to her, her green eyes filled with cold fury, "I can have your families head sent to you within a month if you do not leave _my_ home before sun rise. Do I make myself clear?"

Talisa flinched and folded her arms over her chest and nodded, a tear escaping her eye.

"Good."

Some of the furiousness left her eyes then and she smoothed the skirts of her dress and walked towards the door. She paused as she stepped into the doorway and said surprisingly softly, "Believe it or not I'm actually doing you a favour."

Then she left the room but before she did she heard the healer let out a gasp of relief.

Everra never saw her again.

* * *

When Everra wakes one morning a few weeks after Talisa left with a burning sensation rushing up her throat she knows the truth.

She knows it as she doubles over on the side of the bed, puking loudly and violently, her eyes burning and her fingers reaching up to hold her hair back. Robb has long since returned to his chambers and she is glad for it now.

She takes a loud gulp of breath when she finishes and she wrinkles her nose at the stench and clutches a hand to her stomach, a lump forming in her throat.

She slips out of the bed—on the other side— and slips on one of her water robes, feeling cold for the first time in a long time. Her limbs felt as though they were lagging at her side, her muscles felt as hard and as heavy as stone and she struggled to move to the door, her legs wobbly.

She opened the door slowly and stuck her head out of it and called to the guard nearby, "Summon a servant to clean a mess in my room and Maester Liwin, instruct him to bring mint leaves as well. No one is to disturb me for the rest of the day, is that clear? Send the King my apologies."

The guard nodded at her and left the hall and Everra swallowed loudly, her fingers beginning to twitch at her sides.

Jon had never particularly enjoyed going to the library at Winterfell, preferring to spar with his brothers or go riding than read a book about the history of Westeros or the tale of some great lord. Books were partly a reminder of everything that he was not; a Lord, a true born son and the reminder hurt more than he cared to admit.

Yet, the library at RedRun serves as an escape for him in the early hours of the morning while the castle and its inhabitants still sleep. Jon did not know why the large, airy room comforted him but he did not question it and instead accepted it as the safe haven it was.

Sometimes he merely gazed at the large glass window for hours on end until he knew he had to leave and other times he fishes out a small thin book to keep his mind occupied. The night was no longer something he welcomed, night terrors and ghosts haunted his dreams no matter what he did.

Sometimes it was his father, staring at him sadly his arms open as if he were to embrace him before his skin quickly rotted, his eyes turning lifeless and cold. Jon would wake with a shout on those nights, sweat seeped through his tunic. But the worst were those dreams of Anna. The ones where just for a brief moment she was alive and happy in his arms once more before he wakes and it is all ripped away from him again and again.

It was a torture Jon was not sure he could handle and so he sought for a place where he could feel at peace and the library in RedRun happened to be it.

On that morning Jon was standing in front of a dusty bookshelf at the very back of the long rows of books and he squinted as he tried to read their titles. None caught his eye, either they were too thick or the kinds of stories Sansa would have read back in Winterfell, about knights and princes. The thought made him wince.

Though Jon could not deny that he was surprised at the state of these books. The rest had been in pristine shape, all of them clean and free of dust. Here the books looked as though they had not been touched in many, many years and Jon had the sudden feeling that maybe he was not supposed to be looking in this section.

His hand traced the side of each book, his fingers covered with a thick layer of dust as he did so, His fingers stopped in front of a small, thin black book with no lettering on its side and he pulled it out and was surprised when another thinner book fell from behind it and landed at his feet.

Jon cast a suspicious look towards the black book in his hands and put it back on the shelf, leaning down to pick up the small book that had fallen out. He dusted the front and back of the book slowly and wiped his hands on his pants in order to get rid of the dust.

He flipped through the pages, frowning at the lettering. He checked the front cover of the book and his frown deepened at the blank cover. He opened the book to its first page and read the neat writing.

 _This journal is private and belongs to Lady Talia Legrath of the Bloodlands. Anyone who is found reading this journal will be punished. If lost and found and is returned, the person who found it will be rewarded._

Jon's head snapped up to make sure the coast was clear before he closed the book shut and walked towards his usual seat by the window and opened it. Curiosity was a dangerous thing.

He flipped the page carefully—knowing full well if he was caught he would be punished by her daughter instead— and read.

And read.

And though he was enraptured by her writing and her details of the new world she had travelled to in order to escape slavery he felt as though something were wrong. As though he shouldn't be reading it not only because it was impolite but because he was scared of what he would discover.

He brushed the feeling aside and carried on.

 _Today was a bad day. All of them have been bad but this signifies the worst injuries I have ever come across in my limited time in this country. The War has been going on for only a short time now but I have lost count of all the men I have nursed back to health. Or the men that I have failed to save._

 _They all whimper and cry for their mothers both Stag's, Starks, Tyrells, Targareyn's. It does not matter which side they fight for; they are still boys not yet grown. Or men with families to go home too. Some of them never do._

 _War, I've come to discover, is nothing like it is in the stories or songs. War is misery and death and all the darkness in between. It scares me, sometimes, how dark the world is. I'll never forget any of their faces. I don't think I ever can and the thought. . . simply makes me fear for the future._

 _These Westerosi are peculiar in some ways and I nearly miss home. Do not misunderstand me, I miss mother and father and my siblings. Especially my little brother. Oh well, I made my choices and now I have to live with them._

 _Love,_

 _Talia._

Jon traced the words with his fingers and flipped the page gently, careful not to rip the paper. The next entry was a few weeks later and Jon eagerly began reading it but his eagerness began to diminish as he read the passage.

 _Noble house. . .Stark. . . Winter fell. . . marriage. . ._

A coldness like nothing he had ever felt before entered his body and his fingers grew numb and limp, his hold on the book lessening.

He flipped through the next few passages, his eyes scanning through the page as his heart began to race faster and faster in his chest.

 _No no no no_

His eyes scanned the page— disbelief turing into his veins as he read. He read about his father's love affair, read about how much they loved each other. He reached the part where she came with child and by then his hands were shaking. He had to blink rapidly in order to fully comprehend what he was reading. He felt a whirlwind of emotions form inside of him and at the same time both a huge weight had lifted off his chest.

He had a mother now. He could place a name to a face. All of these years of tortured thoughts and jealousy had finally come to an end. Yet, as quick as his happiness came, it disappeared just as fast.

His mother was dead. Gone. He had never met her or at least did not remember meeting her, as he was only a babe the last time she saw him. He would never be able to ask her any questions about her life or feel her stroke her fingers through his curls and grief for the chances he would never have formed in his stomach.

He closed the book softly and stood from where he sat, his frame hunched and his skin pale. His brown eyes were wide with realisation and he felt as though he had left himself on the chair. As though he were new person. No longer a bastard with one parent he knew of but a bastard with two parents to name.

 _And a new sister._

A lumped formed in his throat at the thought as he rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh.

 _She knew. She had to have known._

Everything started to fall into place around him, as he thought of his journey over the past few months. The questions that had always been at the back go his mind were suddenly answered.

 _Why had she chosen to bring him here in the first place?_

She had done it because she was his younger sister.

His mind flashed to Sansa and Arya and even though he and Sansa had never been close, he at least felt some sort of brotherly affection towards her. When he thought of Lady Everra. . .

 _She knew,_ he thought, _she knew all this time and she never told me._

Anger now boiled in his veins as he stormed out of the room, his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened.

* * *

When he reaches the outside of her chambers he ignores Andromache by the door, ignores her warning growl as he pushed the door open, clutching the journal tightly in his hand.

Whatever Jon had thought he would walk into it wasn't this. He had imagined her sitting by her desk, writing something when he stormed into the room, looking startled at the sight of her older _half-_ brother snarling venomous words at her.

But Jon should have known that nothing he thought would happen ever actually happened as he planned.

Instead of sitting on her chair behind her grand desk, she was sitting in a chair by the fire, Andromache lying at her feet. She seemed not to notice his presence or if she did, she did not show it. Her face was pale and her eyes unfocused as she gazed into the fire. She was wrapped in a warm blanket and it was only then that Jon noticed the cup in her hands. Jon could not see what liquid it was from where he stood but he could tell that it was recently brewed, if the steam rising from it was any indication.

He took another staggering step into the room and closed the door behind him, his consuming rage dulling into a burning sensation in his heart.

She took notice of him then and Jon was taken aback by the indifference in her usually sharp green eyes. Her gaze flickered up and down his body and Jon saw it linger on the journal in his hands.

"You know," she said numbly, turning back to gaze into the fire.

"I do."

The longer he looked at her face the less angry he became until the burning sensation turned into a barely noticeable ache as he walked towards her. She made no attempt to shield the cup from his view and it was then that Jon was hit with the stench.

He wrinkled his nose at the smell and though she was not looking at him she told him, "I was sick earlier I'm afraid."

Jon frowned at her, his brown eyes narrowing as he spoke, "I'm sorry to hear that, _sister."_

He made no attempt to hide how much he emphasised the word. She did not flinch at his tone or offer him an apology she merely looked into the fire and was silent.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice soft and full of hurt which had been hiding beneath all the rage, "Why didn't you tell me about any of this? We could have been brother and sister—"

"We _are_ brother and sister," she snapped, "Regardless of whether or not you knew the truth I have always been your sister. The same as Arya and Sansa. Half siblings. Half brother and sister. Choose whichever name you wish, it will not change the truth."

Jon swallowed loudly and fiddled with the journal with his hands, "I could have been your proper brother. We could have given each other advice as brothers and sisters do—"

"Advice?" she asked, scoffing loudly.

Jon grew frustrated at her tone and placed the journal on top of a nearby table, his hands then twitching at his sides.

She noticed as well and turned her gaze towards him, still grasping onto the cup in her hands, "Then tell me, dear older brother," her voice was filled with bitterness as she spoke, "What do I do with this?" She gestured with one hand at the cup in her lap, the steam still rising.

Jon frowned at her, confused at her words.

"Come on," she spat at him venomously, "Tell me what I should do." At his confused expression she grew more aggravated, "Come on Jon, you said you wanted to be like brother and sister and give each other council and whatnot. I asked you a question and I want you to answer it."

"I don't understand what your asking of me—"

"I'm asking you whether or not I should kill my unborn child."

His body grew cold with shock, a shiver overcoming him and goosebumps formed all over his body. It was as though he were suddenly drenched with water and then shoved out beyond the wall with nothing but a tunic. Words did not come to him for several moments and he stared at her, unblinking.

"What—"

"You heard me," she said, her green eyes growing more and more resigned with every passing moment, "You have ears that work perfectly well as far as I know."

"How?" He gaped at her, his brown eyes wide and doe like.

"Well when two people love each other very, very much they—"

"Thats not what I meant," he snapped sharply, running a hand over his face.

A moment of silence passed before she spoke, "I know, Jon."

He folded his arms in front of his chest as he also gazed into the fire, finding comfort in the orange flames.

"How long?" he asked quietly.

Silence.

"I don't know," she confessed her voice soft, "I didn't let the Maester tell me."

He gulped.

"Is it Robb's?"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her turn her head to look at him contemplatively. _Please say no, please say no—_

"Yes."

Another gulp.

"Is there a possibility it could be anyone—"

"No," she snapped at him loudly, scowling, "No, no there's not."

Jon flushed under her angry gaze and said weakly, "I had too—"

"Stop."

She let out a short, breathy sigh and she sounded so tired Jon was tempted to pull her into his arms and hug her.

"So?" she asked him, her voice a mere whisper, "What do you think?"

Jon turned his head to look at her and as his eyes met hers, he knew instantly that she had already made her choice.

"Will you tell him?" he asked.

She shrugged slightly and gulped, "Not now. Not for a long, long time."

Jon nodded and though he felt uncomfortable with the notion of lying to his brother about something as _huge_ as this, he knew it was not his choice.

"Well then," she said weakly, clasping the cup in her hand and raising it to her lips, "A toast would be too inappropriate at a time like this, wouldn't it?"

He nodded at her and watched her, his brown eyes gentle.

She raised the steaming cup of liquid to her mouth and did not hesitate as she gulped it down in a few large gulps.

The deed was done.

There was no going back.

The cup fell to the fall with a loud clatter as it slipped from her limp hands and Jon saw the aloofness in her eyes and knew that despite what she might say she needed someone.

He walked over towards her and kneeled in front of her, grasping her hands in his. They were surprisingly soft and smooth, unlike his rough ones and as he looked into the pools of her eyes Jon saw no mighty warrior or cold woman, he saw his sister. The sister he had never known. His vulnerable sister whom needed him right now more than anyone ever had before, not even Anna.

He pulled her up gently and quickly scooped her in his arms as she staggered over, her legs to weak to stand upright. He carried her over to the bed and placed her on it gently, her back upright against the pillows. He pulled the furs over her and felt Andromache leap onto the foot of the bed, curling into herself.

He slipped in beside her and tugged her close to his chest, his chin resting upon the top of her raven head. Her hands were curled into fists as she clutched at his chest. She made no sound as he stayed with her, unlike so many others.

Unlike Daavos, unlike her mother, unlike her father, _he_ stayed.

He stayed with her when pain came and when the blood trickled down her legs.

He stayed when her hold on his shirt turned into one of pain.

He stayed with her through it all and comforted her as she had never let anyone do so before, not even Daavos.

She didn't speak throughout any of it, even when he whispered words of comfort into her hair or when he asked her whether or not she was alright. It was only when night had passed and first light began to creep through did she whisper into his chest.

"Thank you."

 **A/N Thanks for the response to last chapter you guys, it means a lot. Remember to tell me your thoughts in a PM or a review. Just a warning, I have exams coming up so I will not be updating for a long while and after exams I'm travelling for a few weeks so don't expect another update until late july :( Sorry guys! Still waiting for some more recommendations for the drabbles/one shots!**

 **Until next time,**

 **Fionakevin073**


	38. Chapter 35: The Storm

Chapter 35

When Everra finally managed to untangle herself from Jon's sleeping form, it was half way through the next day, the sun shining brightly through he windows. She winced at the pain between her thighs, of the sticky feeling of blood coating her legs but still managed to rise from the bed. Maester Liwin had visited during the night, leaving a bucket of water for her to clean herself.

Jon had carried her off the bed so that they could take off the blood stained furs and replace them with clean ones and alls he had done was sit there limply in his arms and bury her head against his chest. She cast a glance at his sleeping form, taking in his messy curls and peaceful face and nearly smiled at the sight.

Her brother.

She let out a quiet sigh, before walking towards her wardrobe and picking out a plain nightgown. She walked behind the screen, dragging the bucket of water with her and began to undress. Her hands felt cold against her skin, as if they would break due to their sudden fragility. She dipped a cloth in the water and began to drag it up her legs. She scrubbed at the tender flesh between her thighs, wincing at the feeling of the cold water against her skin yet she continued to scrub until the stain on her skin had faded away. She quickly dumped the blood cloth in the water and dried her legs before slipping on the dry nightgown. Everra picked up the bloodied gown that she had worn when—

A flash of an unfamiliar feeling burned her insides at the thought, before she quickly steeled herself against it. The lump in Everra's throat had not faded and it was only when she had thrown the bloody nightgown into the fire that she was finally hit with the full force of the pain. Her thighs and stomach ached but not more so than the broken thing she called her heart. She tossed the bloodied gown into the hearth and watched as the flames engulfed it.

For the first time in a long time, Everra felt cold.

* * *

"Ill?" Robb questioned the Maester, his voice echoing throughout the hall, "How so?"

Master Liwin old eyes stared at him intently, the lines on his face becoming all the more evident.

"I am not quite sure, your grace, but I regret to say that she will not be able to join on today's councils or meetings. I suspect that she will be able to leave her chambers in a few days."

"Days?" Lord Bolton asked incredulously, his blue eyes slightly widened as he and Robb shared a glance, "We need Lady Everra—"

"Lady Everra is very ill, my lord," the Maester repeated firmly, clasping his old, bony hands together, "In case you have forgotten this castle was under siege a little over a month ago, my lord and Lady Everra fought in a well-won battle and was severely injured. I fear she may have not gotten the appropriate amount of rest at the time, that has most likely lead to us having this discussion today. If she does not rest now, she will have to rest longer, my lord, your grace. However, Jon Snow has taken to helping Lady Everrra with her affairs for the next few days, I am sure that if anything is truly urgent," his eyes seemed to bore into Robb's, as if he was staring into his mind, "He will be happy to let her know."

"Thank you for your council," Robb said, frowning slightly, "We will make sure to heed it."

Maester Liwin nodded respectfully at him, and knowing when he had been dismissed, left. Robb twirled his forks in between his fingers, worry uncoiling in his stomach. _She had seemed fine yesterday_ , he wondered, _more than fine._ They had not heard from the Martells since Robb had decided to stay at RedRun, and he worried that they never would. They needed that alliance if they were to win the war, Robb knew this. Without it, Robb feared they would be at war for far much longer than they should be. He wanted to go home, wanted to sit near the hearths at Winterfell and endure the snow's of the upcoming winters. He wanted his banner men to go home and see their wives and children, to be safer. _We still have a war to win,_ he reminded himself and refused to think about what was inevitably coming after that.

The thought made his stomach clench uncomfortably, and made his heart to wither in his chest.

"Your grace?" Lord Glover asked, and it suddenly occurred to Robb that he had not been paying attention to what he had been saying.

"Apologies Lord Glover," Robb said, as he knew a King should, "Continue."

* * *

Jon had just woken and he was immediately aware of the lack of warmth beside him, of the lack of _person_ in his arms. He jumped up, startled before his eyes landed on her by the fire, where she was sitting in her dark wooden chair.

"Your awake," she commented, though she never dragged her eyes away from the flames.

Jon stiffened uncomfortably as he remembered what had happened, and the guilt that developed inside him was so strong he nearly slid off the bed. He glanced at her warily and tightened his fists around the furs beneath him for support. He felt _dirty_ as though there was this giant stain on his skin that he could not see, could not get rid of. Jon briefly wondered whether or not this was how his father had felt, bringing home a bastard to his wife. The thought made his heart clench and the anger that had formed in his chest began to creep back.

"How are you?" he asked, concerned, though he made no move to leave the bed.

She did not flinch at his words, nor did she blink away from the flames.

"Well," she replied shortly and Jon knew in his heart of hearts that was all she would say on the matter, too him at least.

 _I'm her brother,_ he reminded himself. The words sounded strange; felt strange even, as though mentioning the two words in the same sentence was _wrong_ somehow. It made him feel guilty for a different reason then and he gulped loudly, looking down.

"I had a hard time getting used to it as well," she told him and it was only then Jon realised that she had looked away from the fire, "I still am," she admitted ruefully, her green eyes shining with a glint of _something._

"How long have you known?" Jon asked quietly.

There was a moment of silence before she replied, "Shortly after my father died."

Jon took a deep breath, "And when was that?"

"When I was seven."

Hurt burned through him as he bit hardly on his lower lip and anger made his guilt wash away like a cold bucket of water.

"That's ten years," he whispered, his darkened brown eyes meeting her green ones, " _Ten._ "

"I was seven when I discovered that my mother had birthed another child," she told him, her voice sounding as though she was annoyed with him, which only served to infuriate Jon more, "She had been dead for three years and my father had been dead for a few days, maybe a week. What was I supposed to do?" she taunted, "Ride up to Winterfell and demand that the Warden of the North admit to bedding my mother and ruin what was left of her name and get my bastard older brother back, whose name I learnt from a journal? Is that what I should have done?"

Jon gritted his teeth together as he snapped, "I don't know what you should have done! But I know you should have done something!"

She regarded him carefully but let him continue.

"You don't know what it it's like, being a bastard, not having a mother," he burst out, his cheeks flaming, "Not knowing _where_ you came from. . ."

"There are many bastards who have no fathers and no name, or brothers to call their own, true born or not. Most bastards are not trained by knights and do not live in castle's, or if they do it's for working. I'm not saying you had the time of your life at Winterfell, Jon. I know you didn't. And perhaps I should have done something to get you back, but I didn't. My father had just died and I wanted to—" She stopped then, clasping her hands together, a distant look forming in her eyes.

"Do something that would take me far, far away," she finished, her tone bland yet somehow wistful.

The lump in Jon's throat grew larger at her words, which undeniably, had truth to them. But that did not change the truth, did not change how he _felt._

"And now?" he asked, his voice as strong as steel, "Why did you not tell me anything now? You've known me for over a year. I've spent _one_ name day with you, I've fought for you and with you. I wanted to marry the woman I love," he saw her stiffen slightly at his use of the present tense, "In this castle. In our home. You didn't have any time in that year to tell me the truth?"

Her eyes flickered away from his for a moment, and instead of answering his question she stated, "I thought Winterfell was your home."

Jon thought about this for a moment, and replied, "It is my home. It is where I grew up and. . . and it will always be my first home. I am a North man and bastard or not that does not change the truth. But this is where I fell in love, where I learned to be something a little bit more than Ned Stark's bastard. I've shed blood for this castle, and I would again. So yes, the North is my home, but so is here."

They stared at each other intently for a few moments, before there was a loud knock on the door.

"My lady?"

Jon's grew cold once more, the guilt that had formed in his stomach began to rise up his throat. His eyes widened and his heart grew still. She had frozen to as well for a moment, before any sign of vulnerability vanished.

"Come in, your grace," she called out, though she made no move to stand.

The door swung open and Jon's heart began to pound loudly in his ears. His mouth grew dry at the sight of Robb walking into the room and all he could think was—

"Jon?" Robb asked, confused as to what his brother was doing on her bed. His blue eyes flashed to Lady Everra, who was looking at him as though nothing were amiss, though Jon could see her skin was slightly paler than usual, the only sign of nervousness or guilt.

"He knows," she spoke softly.

Jon watched his elder brother stiffen at that, and his cheeks coloured with shame. It hadn't occurred to Jon that Robb knew, and though he knew he had the right to be angry somewhat the shame that pounded through his body prevented him from doing so. His heart clenched at the guilty expression on Robb's face, and he felt so tempted to blurt out the truth.

"I'm sorry Jon," Robb told him, breaking his thoughts, "I wanted to tell you but. . . I didn't think it was my place."

Jon smiled at him weakly, bile rising in his throat, "It's alright Robb."

His brother didn't look convinced at that and opened his mouth to speak more before Jon cut him off, unable to bear his brother's apologies when he _knew._

"Really, it's alright," he told him and he could feel her gaze on him. He remembered how she had been so silent, how she had gripped tightly onto his doublet as though she thought he would leave and that somehow made it slightly better.

 _Thank you._

Robb cleared his throat before shooting him a soft smile, and then turned his attentions to Everra.

"The Maester said you were ill my lady," Robb said awkwardly, unsure of how to act.

"I was," she told him softly.

Jon watched as his brother's eyes widened indiscreetly at the use of his first name in front of him and before Jon could say anything she added, "He know's about that too."

It took Jon a moment to realise what she was talking about and it only occurred to him later that Robb had already known what she was saying. Robb shot him a glance of gratitude and something very akin to embarrassment, as though he had something too say too him, something too prove.

Yet at the same time, his body visibly relaxed and the slightly unsure expression on his face vanished, to reveal only pure relief.

"I thought—" Robb started hesitantly, "I thought you were dying."

Jon observed his new sister closely and was surprised at how. . . _gentler_ her eyes looked when she looked at his brother and she stood from the chair and winced slightly. Robb rushed over towards her, his hand reaching for her elbow to steady her, concern evident on his face.

"Everra are you alright?" Robb asked her. She nodded slightly before leaning forward and leaned into him, burying her head into his chest.

Jon was shocked for a long while, as was Robb been though his back was too him, Jon saw him stiffen in surprise before quickly wrapping his arms around her. All the while Jon observed them quietly, and all he could think of was how. . . _right_ they looked. He scowled inwardly at how girlish it sounded, yet it was true. Together they looked as though they could move mountains and burn countries to the ground together at the same time.

That only made the pit in Jon's stomach grow.

The look in Robb's eyes was what worried Jon though. They had somehow moved slightly in his direction so Jon could now see his brothers face. He had noticed his brother's dependence on her before, had known that he felt _something_ for her but now Jon knew just how strong that something was.

Anna's face flashed in his mind and the sadness he now felt was not for them but for what he did. It was tender sadness, a deep sense of sorrow rather than a shudder of grief and though the guilt Jon felt was strong, it was balanced out by a small flicker of hope in his heart from the realisation that maybe he could love again.

* * *

It is a little over a week after that when Maester Liwin tells her that she has fully healed and is free to resume any 'activities' she was once doing. She thanks him quietly, meeting his gaze and refusing to look away—to be shamed— and watches as he leaves a small wooden jar of ingredients to make moon tea. Everra has Vera bring a cup and steaming pot of water every day in her chambers for the foreseeable future.

Everra did not think she had it in her to do something like that again.

It haunted her in a way she had not expected. Sometimes the area inside her thighs would twinge in pain and Everra would wake the next morning from a night terror of blood staining the place in between her thighs, sticky and wet. Jon visited her everyday, informing her of what went on in war councils and writing down any notes or suggestions she had. The Martell's still had not answered the raven sent, and they were beginning to face the reality that maybe they never will. He told her of the improvements of the reparations and how much coin would be needed, if they had it. Maester Liwin and Lord Yullian would come with him at this times and council her and tell her advice. For a few moments in that week she almost forgot they were at war and so when Maester Liwin tells her that she is fully healed she is surprisingly bothered and relieved.

She hasn't seen Robb since he visited that first day, and she is glad for it. But she knows that he will come that night, after she sits at the war council for the first time in a week. She almost prepares herself for it, as though she were preparing for battle and not something she typically enjoyed. Yet when Everra is in her bath late that evening and Robb came into the room— she caught a glimpse of Greywind and Andromache behind the door, keeping watch as they always did— she tilted her head at him in amusement as he immediately begins to strip off his doublet and tunic.

She rolled her eyes at him—making no attempts to hide it— and watched as he shot her a playfully annoyed look, his blue eyes glinting with _something._ Everra ignored the twist in her stomach, and watched him, careful not to reveal what she was thinking.

"You're desperate," she commented, shifting in the now lukewarm water, the swell of her breasts appearing at the top of the water.

Robb began to undo his breeches but he stopped his hands and looked at her, raising an eyebrow, "It's been over a week."

"Look at that," she marvelled, titling her head to the side as she stared at him, "The Young Wolf desperate for sex like a blushing fourteen year old."

Robb rolled his eyes at her and slid off his breeches, naked and bare in front of her.

"I don't see you complaining," he told her, walking in her direction. She shook her head at him and lay there until he scooped her out of the water as though she were a bride and he laughed, unknowing and ignorant of her inner turmoil.

* * *

He traced a pattern of circles against her bare back, and the sensation nearly caused her to shiver. The lower halves of their bodies were covered by sheets and furs, and Robb was propped up on his side by his elbow, though Everra lay flat on her stomach, her head turned to face him.

"What was your favourite part of Essos?" he asked her curiously, his blue eyes light.

Everra's insides stiffened at the question, and her eyebrows quirked slightly, "What?"

"Your favourite place," Robb elaborated, "That you visited."

Everra watched him carefully, his fingers not stopping their movements.

"You've never asked me about Essos before," she commented, studying him.

He shrugged slightly before saying, "I don't know, I just felt like asking. I am your King after all."

Everra arched an eyebrow at him before her features twisted in thought, and she looked as though she were considering her answer quite carefully.

"I spent the longest time in Pentos," she told him, her voice light and almost wistful sounding, "I enjoyed it there. . . I loved Braavos as well, and Volantis was nice—"

"Isn't that where your mother was from?"

Everra's eyes narrowed slightly at him before answering hesitantly, "Yes, she came from there. Even the cities in Slavers bay were beautiful in their own way, every city had their own story, their own. . . culture. In Westeros every culture is the same, except maybe Dorne and the North are slightly different."

"You enjoyed it there," he commented, his blue eyes soft as he stared at her.

Her green eyes flickered to meet his and she answered, "Yes I did. I suppose it was why I stayed there for so long."

There was a moment of silence before Robb started speaking again.

"Teach me some Braavosi," he demanded playfully, retracting his hand from her back.

"You're awfully cheerful," she said suspiciously, eyeing him.

He rolled his eyes at her though a smile formed on his lips, "Am I?"

Everra shifted upwards so that she was now propped up on her elbows, her dark hair cascading down her back.

"What do you want to learn first? Braavosi speaks valyrian as do the rest of the free cities, though they are all different dialects—"

"Just teach me a common phrase," Robb suggested, flipping over to lie on his back.

Everra considered him a moment, before saying, "A common phrase. . . _Valar Morghulis._ "

Robb's eyebrows rose so high on his forehead it looked as though they would fall off.

"Vaur morgu— What?"

Everra shook her head at him before repeating softly, "Valar Mor-ghu-lis."

"Valar Mo-rghu-lis?" Robb tried again, frowning. "Valar Morghulis," he repeated more strongly, glancing at her too make sure he was saying it right. His accent was largely evident in his words and it made Everra smile. "Valar Morghulis," he repeated softly, before glancing up at her.

His blue eyes were tender as he looked at her and he raised a hand to her cheek, her skin soft beneath his calloused hands.

"Your smiling," he commented softly.

The smile slowly drifted off her face as she stared at him intently. She didn't answer.

"What does it mean?" he asked quietly, lowering his hand to her bare shoulder.

Her green eyes never left his face as she replied, "All men must die."

Robb's eyebrows rose high again, "Is that high or low valyrian?"

"High," she replied softly, "The response is _Valar Dohaeris_."

"What does that mean?"

"All men must serve." The words exited her tongue slowly, causing her lips to curve upwards slightly as she looked at him.

"Strange saying," he commented lightly.

Everra shrugged but said nothing, lying back down on the bed, sleep becoming too hard for her to fight. She turned her back to him and brought the furs up over her and snuggled into her pillow. She could feel his warmth from behind her and she resisted the urge to turn around. He shifted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer towards him and pressed a kiss on her shoulder.

Everra felt as though the pit in her stomach would swallow her whole.

* * *

During the council meeting the next day is when they hear the news. They are all studying the map laid on the large table intently, the room hot and suffocating. Greywind and Andromache lie near the hearth in the room, peacefully. Robb is just about to speak when the door swings open to reveal a startled looking servant, his cheeks red and he was panting loudly, as though he had just ran from the top battlements to the room.

"The-the," he struggled to speak, "The Martell sigil has been spotted your grace."

"How many men?" Robb demanded. walking around the table to the servant, his blue eyes wide and flaring.

"A hundred," the servant stuttered, "Maybe more, I didn't stay long enough to see."

The Lords had jumped at that, panic and uneasiness filling the room. They all glanced at each other meaningfully, until Everra stated, "We should wait for him in the front courtyard to greet them."

They all nodded at her words, before her gaze shifted towards the servant, her eyes cold and hard as stone, "Did you see which Martell it was? Was there any sign that indicated anything?"

The servant shook his head, his gaze plastered on the ground. Everra nodded slightly and dismissed him, sharing a glance with Jon before her eyes met his. Robb could not tell what she was thinking, but her eyes were resigned and hazy at the same time. The lower part of her hair trailed down her back, yet two buns had been twisted on top of her head. She was wearing a green silk gown with a thick gold belt around her waist, as though she were wearing armour.

She looked beautiful, that was evident and Robb was suddenly reminded of Sansa all those months ago, when her face had turned red from looking at Joffrey and how she had been so excited and happy at the thought of meeting her future husband. None of that was evident on Everra's face, not that it surprised him.

"Let us go," he commanded and made his way out the door, Greywind immediately bounding after him.

* * *

They all stood there in the courtyard, eyeing the open gate with a hint of wariness in all of their eyes. A small breeze shifted through Everra's hair and through her gown. She stood next to Robb silently, Jon standing behind her. Lady Catelyn was on his right, and then the other Lords followed after her. Maester Liwin and Lord Yullian were beside her on her left, silent as stone.

Andromache was curled up by her feet, though she was still on alert, her head snapped up as though she were ready for something to pounce. The only sound in the courtyard was the wind, and the distant sound of horses approaching the castle.

And then suddenly the Martell banner came through the gates, their host pouring into the castle. Everra made eye contact with one of the Unsullied guards and he nodded carefully, ready to strike with his men if need be.

Everra's gaze was piercing as she looked at all the men on horses and knew instantly the man on the black stallion with a tail of fire was Oberyn. He had a lined face with thin eyebrows, and black eyes and a sharp nose. His hair was lustrous and as dark as her own, with few grey streaks despite his elder age. Everra could see why everyone called him the viper. She felt Robb stiffen next to her and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, to find him already looking at her.

She nodded at him slightly, to indicate that she was alright before gazing forward, watching as the host came to a stop. Oberyn swung off his horse elegantly, and stared at the castle with a look of both appraisement and distain. He wore a pale red silk cola and a shirt with overlapping discs of bright copper. He had a lean but muscular build, explaining his reputation for being a quick fighter.

He sauntered up to them, a smirk forming on his face as he scanned the long line, surely looking for her.

"I am Oberyn Martell," he said with a thick Dornish accent. His lips even looked like that of a snake when he spoke.

"It is a pleasure too meet you, Prince Oberyn," Robb stated, taking a step forward towards him and offering him his hand to shake, "Though I must say your arrival was quite the surprise."

Oberyn shot his hand a look before brushing it aside with a flick of his hand. She could feel the animosity and disdain from the Northern Lords grow at his disrespect.

"That is a King you're talking too," Lord Flint stated coldly, "Show him the respect he deserves."

Oberyn merely raised an amused eyebrow at him, before scanning Robb up and down, evaluating him.

"Pleasure to meet you as well, Young Wolf," Oberyn said, though he sounded as though he were mocking him instead of being polite.

Robb nodded in return and took a step back, his back straight and his gaze cool.

"What are you doing here?" Robb commanded cooly, his eyes unreadable.

Everra felt a flush of something very akin to pride bloom in her heart, and a quick sense of satisfaction. _The King in the North,_ she thought.

Oberyn cast a look towards her and Everra saw a spark of interest form in his black eyes.

"I am here too meet my future bride, your grace," he stated flippantly, brushing past him to saunter up to her. Robb turned too look at her, and she saw a flash of anger spark in his eyes. She shot him a look and he nodded at her, though reluctantly from behind Oberyn's back.

"A pleasure too meet you, my lady," Oberyn greeted, eyeing her lustfully and reached down to grasp a hold of her right hand and kissed it. His lips were dry against her skin and Everra resisted the urge to flinch, and manage to prevent her body from stiffening.

"Likewise, Prince Oberyn," she replied, though she did not smile at him. Oberyn rose from that position and eyed her carefully, as though he were trying to figure her out.

"Should we go elsewhere to discuss this more privately," she suggested, shooting Robb a look. Robb nodded at her and said loudly, "A splendid idea, my lady, let us make our way to the council chambers."

He glanced a guard standing near the back of the line and commanded, "Make sure that Prince Oberyn's stuff and his men and horses are provided with comfortably accommodations."

The guard nodded and quickly scrambled to work.

It only occurred to Everra later that Oberyn's eyes had never left her face and that they had narrowed ever -so-slightly at the interaction with Robb.

"Just a moment, your grace," Oberyn stated hastily and moved back to his men.

He muttered something to the guard closest to his horse and he nodded before riding back down the line of men. It was then that Everra noticed the small wheelhouse at the back of the group, and her heart hardened in her chest, her eyes narrowing as she and Robb shared a cautious glance. She could see the door of the wheelhouse open and she caught sight of a woman with black hair stepping down the wheelhouse steps, her red silk gown eye-catching. Another woman followed after her and Everra frowned at the sight of her blood red hair.

"Your grace," she said, alarmed, "That is Stannis's priestess."

Robb immediately frowned and stepped next to her protectively, understanding her underlying message; _That is the woman who almost killed me and killed Renly._

Catelyn gasped quietly nearby her and Everra glanced at her, their eyes meeting. Catelyn had met her too, and seen the shadow that killed Renly.

"How did he come across her?" Catelyn asked quietly, the lines on her face taunt and her eyes wide with worry.

Everra shot the Unsullied guard a meaningful glance and he nodded at her, and muttered something to the two guards standing next to him, who gripped their spears tightly and moved closer towards them.

"A token of my good fortunate," Oberyn stated, whirling back to look at them, an arrogant smirk appearing on his face. By that time, the two women and guard had reached them and Oberyn wrapped an arm around the back haired women waist. Everra merely raised an eyebrow at him, but she could feel the immediate outrage of Robb and Catelyn and Jon.

She glanced at Melissandrei, whose face was bruised and hands were tied by a rope. She was the definition of a prisoner; of someone who was defeated, yet she did not look that way. Her eyes were still strong and deadly, and her lips were curled upwards as if she knew something they didn't.

"How did you find her?" Everra asked Oberyn, taking a step towards her, her green eyes unreadable.

"She was trying to fuck one of my guards," he commented carelessly, "I heard that Stannis had a red priestess whispering in his ear, and when I saw her, I thought she might be her. And then when she began preaching about the Lord of Light I _knew_ it was her. Since you killed Stannis—" he said it as though he found it hard to believe and as though he were impressed at the same time, "I thought she maybe a symbol of my good wishes."

Everra did not say anything and instead merely looked at the red woman, her silence deadly. Finally, she commanded to one of the unsullied, "Take her to one of the cells. Not near the Kingslayer's or the Greyjoy and blind her."

Her eyes then flickered towards Oberyn and his paramour and though her insides bristled slightly at his rudeness, she found she did not really care of what she was, or _who._

"You must be a guest of Oberyn's," she told the woman, staring at her coldly. The woman could not be called beautiful, but there was something about her exoticness that was attractive, Everra could not deny that. She was a sensual woman, with her long, elegant features and revealing gown. Yet though the women was wrapped in her lover's arms she nearly flinched at the sight of her.

"Yes, my lady, I am Ellaria Sand," she said quietly, though her brown eyes met her green ones unwaveringly.

 _She is brave,_ Everra thought before replying, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, I expect we will get to know each other better in the future. Lord Yullian—" she gestured to her left, "Will be glad to give you a tour of the castle. I am afraid it may not be as impressive as it usually is due to the recent battle that occurred. It is still in reparations."

Eclair smiled at her kindly, but Everra did not return it and instead looked at Oberyn, whose arms went slack around Ellaria's waist as he stared at her, a glint of surprise evident in his eyes.

"You killed Stannis," he commented, yet it almost sounded as though it were a question.

Everra nodded in acknowledgement and replied bluntly, "Yes."

"Where is he?" he questioned, his accent thick.

Everra turned on her heel slightly, so that she was now facing the castle, and titled her head up to look at the battlements, to where his head was still rotting and pointed.

"There is his head," she told him, "I do not know where the rest of him went."

Andromache growled at that loudly and came next to her, rubbing her head against her thigh.

Everra's eyes glinted dangerously in the sunlight, "Or perhaps I do know after all."

* * *

"Why didn't you send word too us of your arrival?" Robb questioned, staring at Oberyn cooly.

Only Robb, Everra, Catelyn and Jon were meeting with him, after Robb had told the other Lords to go. They were in Everra's study, and Oberyn sat in the chair across the table where they sat, his left leg propped up on the table as he looked around the study carelessly. He looked at his nails for a moment, looking bored before saying, "The Lannister's and the Eunuch have spies everywhere. I was interested in your proposal, and so I came."

Everra frowned at that slightly, but otherwise her face was unreadable.

"And you decided to come half way across the country on a mere whim? We are fighting a war," she told him blandly, unimpressed by his careless and arrogant attitude, "Not playing a game."

"You asked for my help—"

"We asked for Dorne's help," Robb interrupted, his blue eyes cold, "And as far as we are aware your brother Doran is it's leader, not you. While we are glad that you are interested in the proposal, if you have not formally accepted it we did not see the reason as to why exactly you are here."

Oberyn observed them all with an amused glint in his eye, though it slowly vanished so that his black eyes were now cold and empty, yet held a fierceness to them that not many people had.

"I'm not interested in fighting for the North," he told them, his voice now dangerously hard, anger making his fists clench in his lap, "I am interested in vengeance. For my sister and her children."

Everra and Robb shared a small glance before Everra dragged her eyes away to observe Oberyn intently, knowing that he wasn't finished.

"Yet I must admit that I am wary to help the family that was the main reason for why my sister and her children were in the position to be butchered like pigs," he added, his features relaxing somewhat, though the steel in his eyes did not fade.

"You can not blame them," Everra gestured towards Robb, Catelyn and Jon, "For something that happened when they were not even born or there. Lyanna Stark did not ask for Rhaegar to place those winter roses in her lap, she did not ask for him to kidnap or rape her a year later either, but he did anyway. Lord Stark fought to get back his sister and avenge his father and brother who died a slow and painful death by the Mad King's orders."

"Lord Stark supported the man that allowed for my sister to be raped until she split in two and for her children to be slaughtered—"

"Lord Stark was the only one who objected to their vile and cruel deaths, Prince Oberyn," Everra interjected, noticing how Catelyn flinched at the mention of her husband, and Robb and Jon looking rather sad as well.

"He fought with Robert over it," she continued, her eyes never leaving Oberyn's, "And if he had the choice it never would have happened. Lord Stark would have never allowed the murder of innocent children, or the rape of a beloved woman. You know that as well as I do, Prince Oberyn."

He leaned back in his chair, and drummed his fingers against the handle, "That I do, my lady."

Silence followed for a long time after that, before Robb finally said, "Will you join our cause?"

"My men are a few leagues away," Oberyn admitted, "Though it is not Dorne's full force, I am afraid."

"How many men, Prince Oberyn?" Jon asked quietly.

Oberyn's black eyes shifted towards Jon, "Nearly ten thousand."

"Dorne can raise up to twenty or more thousand," Everra stated harshly, her green eyes narrowing.

"I am well aware of that fact, my lady, but my brother does not share my eagerness for joining the war and so I escaped Dorne with the few soldiers I could gather in such short time."

"Well," Robb stated, his blue eyes slightly less cold now, "That is better than nothing, Prince Oberyn. We thank you for your. . . co-operation."

"Thank me after we win," Oberyn said, rising from his chair and stretching, "I think that is all we have to discuss for today, your grace, I fear must now rest."

He sauntered out of the room before Robb could reply, and the only sound in the room was the door slamming shut.

"He is not someone you want to cross," Catelyn warned him quietly.

It was the first thing she had said since the meeting had begun.

"No," Robb agreed, his voice heavy, "He's not."

* * *

Robb could not admit to knowing exactly why he was going down the stairs that led to the prison cells, nor could he admit why he wanted to visit her. Anger, perhaps, or maybe a thirst for vengeance. The thought of Everra dying by a shadow with his face caused by her hands made his blood boil and his heart race, and yet, Robb somehow knew that wasn't why he went. It was though something _compelled_ him to go down those steps into the darkness.

The jailor was a man with a large belly and stinking breath, and was eager to show Robb into the long, cold dark hallway, which was only lit by a few torches littered down the long path. Robb knew of the secret passage down the hall, by the stone walls, and had heard the dungeons mentioned and described several times in preparation for the battle, and yet it did not prepare him for the actual thing.

It smelt of death and blood, the only sounds lingering in the dark hall were that of the prisoner's groans and moans. Piss and shit stunk the air as well, and Robb resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust. They passed by a few doors until they reached one near the end.

"She's on her own," the jailor informed him greedily, "We managed to fit the other prisoners in this cell in another, they maybe a bit cramped now." He sounded as though the thought delighted him and Robb decided that he disliked this man almost as much as he disliked Oberyn.

He juggled the keys around until he found the right one, and then plunged it into the keyhole and unlocked the door. It swung open and Robb hesitated only for a moment before stepping in, and shot the jailor a cold look as to prevent any ideas of him staying about.

"Close the door," Robb commanded harshly, "I'll call you back when I am done."

The jailor nodded, though he looked a little bit dismayed but quickly closed the door. Robb waited until his footsteps echoed down the hall away from the cell before stepping closer to the women. She sat against the wall on the far side of the small cell, her legs crossed and her face twisted into a serene smile. Robb frowned at her but did not speak for a few long moments.

Long chains attached to the wall were encased around her wrists, allowing her to move very little and very painfully if she did. She was not gagged or blinded, and for someone who was a prisoner she looked very peaceful, eerily peaceful.

"The young wolf," she said, her voice strong and surprisingly deep, "I have been expecting you."

Robb's insides churned slightly, before he spoke, "Have you, my lady? Sorry to have kept you waiting."

Her eyes opened then, and Robb was careful to hide his alarm at the malicious glint in her alarming red eyes.

"You came to ask me something," she commented, goading him, "The Lord of Light compelled you to come and seek me out, Robb Stark."

Robb raised an eyebrow at her and questioned, "Did he now? And why is that?"

"Because you are surrounded by traitors and liars, Robb Stark," she told him, "Because the girl whom you take into your bed every night is a liar."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," he snapped, though his insides had frozen slightly, and his heart had begun to beat faster.

"Yes you do, Robb Stark, last night she was teaching you valyrian per your request."

Robb froze slightly, shock robbing him of words.

"She lied to you about the brother you share, she lied to you about her intentions for helping, she allowed your father to die—"

"I already knew this," Robb found himself saying, his blue eyes enlarged, "If there is nothing else for you too say then I will take my leave, my lady."

He turned on his heel and walked to the door but just as his hand reached the knob, her voice burst out loudly, "Wait!" Robb stopped in his tracks, even though his head was telling him to go.

"There's more."

* * *

Everra walked down the hall to her chambers, Andromache by her heels. She had just finished talking with Jon and now returned to her chambers to prepare for supper, where Oberyn would be joining them.

The door opened and she stepped in and removed her cloak, tossing it onto a nearby chair. She looked across the room and— "Robb?" she said, startled.

He was standing with his back to her, in front of her desk. Everra felt a sudden coldness sweep over her and she instantly knew something was off. "Robb?" she asked again, walking closer to him, "Robb what is it?"

 _He was holding something_ she realised, _what—_

 _No._

 _No._

He placed it back on the table with a large clatter, the ingredients spilling out onto the table.

"Is it true?" he asked her quietly, his voice low.

Everra stopped in her tracks and swallowed uncomfortably, trying to mask her inner panic.

"Is it true?" he asked again, more harshly this time and whirled around too look at her, his blue eyes dark with anger but there was disbelief in his eyes, as though he were willing it not to be true. As though if she told him it wasn't she would believe.

"Please tell me it isn't true," he pleaded, his voice breaking and he let out a small, defeated breath, "Please tell me you didn't—" he closed his eyes tightly, as though the words pained him, "Please tell me you didn't kill my— _our_ child."

Everra couldn't meet his eyes before she forced herself too and she swallowed loudly and clasped her hands together. "I—" she started, her voice drifting off near the end, "I did, Rob."

The air was uncomfortably thick and suffocated her. She heard him inhale sharply and lifted her eyes too meet his and nearly flinched at the look of complete and utter despair and anger in them.

"Why?" he asked her, his voice filled with hurt and grief, "Why would you be so _cruel?"_

"I knew you would insist on us getting married if you knew," she whispered, her voice uncharacteristically soft, "And I. . . I couldn't—"

"Don't you dare put this on me!" he snapped loudly, his blue eyes now blazing with fury, "Don't you dare!"

" _You_. . ." he let out a loud breath and wiped at his eyes, "You did this for yourself and you know it. You did it because you are a cruel and manipulative woman who only cares about herself and who never once cared about me. You are someone who is incapable of letting someone care about you and— And I could have made you happy. _We_ could have been happy and you—"

Everra regarded him carefully, her green eyes filled with a rare tenderness that she did not know she possessed.

"Robb I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking, "I never. . . I never wanted you to find out—"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He yelled, throwing his hands up, "Because it doesn't. You didn't have to kill our baby but you did it anyway because you are selfish and cold and—"

"I am not my mother!" she snapped, her green eyes furious.

Robb blinked at her, surprised by her outburst.

"I am not her!" she grounded out, her words fierce in her throat, a fire spreading in her belly, "I will not be called a whore and lose everything I have worked so hard to get—"

"I would have married you—"

"As if that would make a difference!" she cried. "I made it abundantly clear to you that I would not marry you and that I would not bear your children. I have told you this hundreds of times. You knew it was a possibility I could get with child and you continued on bedding me anyway—"

"You seduced me—"

"Seduced?" she asked cruelly, "If I remember correctly Robb it was _you_ who kissed _me_ the first time, it was _you_ who was persistent on getting to know me. On getting to know the great, mysterious, beautiful Lady Everra who saved your life. You say you want to marry me, Robb and you don't even know me. You want to marry the idea of me, the idea that you created, and not the actual person who is Everra Legrath. You think of me as some poor, abused victim of her cruel father who is merely a product of her environment. And maybe that was true in the beginning, maybe it was, I don't know. You see me as this broken thing that you can fix and make into a kind and loving person, someone who you can make _whole_ again."

She stopped for a moment, her chest heaving, "That, is the girl you want to marry. You don't want to marry the girl who killed her father and slept like a babe afterwards. You don't want to marry the girl who has killed more people than she can count. That is who I am. Maybe in the beginning that was true but I chose to stay this way. I chose to be who I am now. You think I joined the game of thrones because I was forced too, and maybe I was, but I stayed because _this is the life that I am good at._ Surviving, is what I am good at. This is the only life I know," she told him helplessly, her green eyes shining, "This is the only life, I will ever know. I'm not meant for the North, I'm not going to be a good mother and I sure as hell am not ever going to be a good and loving wife, and _that_ is who you need Robb. Perhaps not right now, right now you do need me but there will come a time when you won't."

She gazed at him and tried to urge him with her eyes to understand, to try to understand what she was saying. He didn't look at her and instead murmured, "I could have loved you more than life. I could have made you happy, because I know you. But this," he gestured between them, "I can't forgive this."

Everra's heart froze in her chest and she swallowed the urge to take it back, to back all that she said, but all she can see is him dying. She can hear their screams of _The King in the North_ ringing in her ears and can remember how they sowed Grey winds head onto his body.

"I guess that's it then," she murmured, her voice bland.

"I guess it is."

 **AN That was intense. . . Remember what I said about not posting until July, well I lied! Sorry! Lol but I don't think any of you mind. As I expected, the response to last chapter was mixed. Well, the end of it got mixed reactions. Some where understanding of Everra's actions and others were well, not. But I guess that was kinda what I was aiming for? Does that make sense? Everra is a very conflicted character and controversial too, so to hear different reactions was great. AND BY THE WAY OMG GUYS! We are close to 300 follows! Wow. I've been busy for the past few weeks studying and stuff so its been hard for me to update. But then I started a new game of thrones fic and I was determined to update for you guys too, so here we are. Anyway, thanks again! Tell me your thoughts in the review section ! :)**

 **Until next time,**

 **Fionakevin073**


	39. Chapter 36: UnbowedUnbentUnbroken

Chapter 36

Everra could see the moon from the small cracks in her blinds. It was the shape of a fingernail, thin but still managed to light the night's sky. She could see the stars twinkle in the sky as well from where she lay on her bed on her side. It was quiet. Eerily quiet.

The only sound beside's her breathing was a small breeze that fluttered through the air every once in a while, but other than that there was only silence. Silence was something she had always welcomed. Silence meant being alone, or at least _feeling_ as though she were alone. Everra shifted onto her back, dragging her eyes away from the view. Her black hair was undone and fanned behind her head on the pillow. She could feel Andromache's weight near her feet, could feel her warmth radiating out towards her.

While the feeling was familiar— it was no longer the weight she was used too. No longer the body she had become accustomed to being on her bed. Andromache's weight was familiar and welcome but Everra could not deny the feeling of how. . . _wrong_ it felt.

 _I could have loved you more than life._

Everra closed her eyes tightly, willing the image of his wounded blue eyes to leave her. Her hands clutched at the linen beside her as she banished all thoughts of _him._ It had been a week since he had left her, and the silence that had followed afterwards was almost deafening. The lump that had formed in her throat had not quite left just yet, and she still felt slightly shaky in her bed. As though the ground beneath her had suddenly tilted and she was still learning how to walk on the uneven ground.

Her eyes lingered at the closed door and she almost expected him to quietly open it as he had previously done. She almost wanted him to come back and—

 _Stop it._

She let out a loud sigh and turned her back to the window. She could still feel the imprint of his arm around her waist, and could almost _feel_ his breath on the back of her neck.

 _I could have made you happy, because I know you._

She buried her head in the pillow again and tried once more to rid herself of the words and images.

* * *

"Ships."

The word was haunting and its effect was immediate. The room had gone deathly quiet at Oberyn's word. He was right, they all knew that but they were helpless in the situation.

"You are right," Everra announced quietly, locking her eyes with his, "We do need ships if we are going to defeat the Lannister's. They will not leave King's Landing and meet us in the field. The only option we have is too sail to Kings Landing but the issue with that is we have no ships and the only Lords who have ships aren't on our side. Baron Greyjoy is only staying quiet because we have his son, they Tyrell's have sided with the Lannister's and the North has no ships."

"Dorne has ships," Oberyn started, before taking a long pause so that he could look at Robb, who was staring at him, his eyes unreadable.

"Yet Prince Doran will not give us his fleet and even if he did, the Dornish fleet is not enough to carry nearly fifty thousand soldiers," Robb said, and even to her it sounded a little too harsh for a King and one of his subjects.

"I wasn't only talking about Dorne," Oberyn replied, and he looked as though Robb's agitation amused him.

He had not even looked in her direction. Had not even acknowledged her presence when she had entered the room with Jon. Something in her chest had tightened whenever she looked at him, though the only sign of Robb's slight discomfort was his obvious irritation with Oberyn. Besides that, he looked fine. Catelyn was also in attendance as well, perhaps so that she could keep an eye on Oberyn, or whatnot. Everra had not asked about her about her sudden appearances.

Robb quirked at eyebrow at Oberyn, "Who else?"

Oberyn's eyes then flickered to her's, and there was a glint of amusement in his dark eyes as he appraised her.

"You travelled throughout Essos for most of your life did you not?" He questioned. Everra nodded, though she remained quiet. "You must have made some allies?"

Suspicion and wariness crept into her heart and she resisted the urge to snap.

"Indeed I did whilst I was there but I am there no longer. The leaders of Essos are backstabbers and traitors and will turn on us the moment they get even a whiff of someone who can give them a better offer that is why—"

"That is not your decision to make, lady Everra," Robb cut in firmly, his blue eyes blank yet strong. Everra turned to look at him, her expression unreadable.

"Your grace with all due respect you don't know these people," she told him, her green eyes pouring into his blue.

"Surely you must have met a few people who have connections," Oberyn interrupted. She turned her gaze towards him, and it hardened.

"Of course I have," the way she said it made it sound as though she thought he was an idiot, "it's what those people do with those connections is what matters, Prince Oberyn."

There was a few moments of silence before Robb spoke.

"Write to a few of the men or women who you know who you deem trustworthy enough," Robb commanded, "We need all the help we can get. If they want gold, give it to them. If they want power and glory, promise it to them. I command it."

There was a few beats before Everra nodded—reluctantly.

"As you wish, your grace."

* * *

Robb slammed the door to his chamber shut, and finally felt as though he could breath once more. His chest had felt constricted, his throat was felt unbearably tight the longer he stayed in that room with _her._

He paced across the room, sliding his furs off his shoulder and tossing it onto the bed. Greywind watched him from where he lay on the ground licking his paws, and Robb did not stop pacing. She hadn't even seemed bothered.

 _As though nothing had even happened_ he thought bitterly. But that was not the only reason for his discomfort and stress. The pressing matter of ships still lingered in his mind, causing a deep throb to start. He winced at the feeling, and finally stopped his pacing so that he could sit down on a chair. He buried his face in his hands and could feel his hands brush the curls on his forehead.

Robb did not know how long he stayed like that before a soft knock echoed through the door.

"Come in," he called out dully, sitting back upright in his chair. Greywind slowly came over to his side, and propped himself down by his feet. The door opened slowly to reveal his mother, looking at him warily, her blue eyes tight.

"Mother," he welcomed, his voice sounding dull even too his own ears.

She smiled at him softly, though it did not reach her eyes. She stepped into the room, the door closing behind her. She stood there aimlessly for a moment, wringing her hands before saying, "Robb. . ."

His heart tightened in his chest.

"Mother," he returned, watching her closely. She calmly walked towards him, her blue eyes never leaving his own, and they were surprisingly tender.

"When your father died. . .I—I didn't know if I would ever be happy again, and I walked around with this dead look in my eyes, a sight I now see in you, my son," She was cupping his cheek in her gloved hand by then, and Robb's heart had shrunken in his chest. He let out a ragged breath as she finished, his bitterness leaking out of him.

"I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it," he admitted, shying away from her hands and running a hand through his curls.

"You were, except for some moments," she said gently, and sat in the chair next to his, her eyes patient. "You once told me that nothing. . . _romantic_ had ever happened between you and Lady Everra." Robb visibly stiffened under her gaze, "I suspect that has changed."

Robbs' hands clenched. _This is the only life I will ever know_ she had told him, before she had promptly ripped his heart out of chest, and let it bleed on the floor. _I guess that's it then; I guess it is._

"What happened?" his mother asked lightly, her blue eyes focused on his face. Robb swallowed uncomfortably before speaking so softly he wondered if his mother had heard it, "I—she. . . " he let out a breath, "She was with child, _my_ child." His mother's eyes widened so considerably Robb thought they would slide off her face.

" _What?"_ she whispered incredulously.

Robb was not offended by her horror and her disgust. His mother had never shied away form expressing her disapproval and dislike of bastards and she had even condemned men who slept with other women when they were betrothed. It was the one thing she had never forgiven his father for.

"She got rid of it, without even telling me about it," he whispered, pain slashing through his chest. His mother had looked as though she did not know whether to reprimand him or comfort him but know her stern features had softened with sympathy. "I ended it with her, because I couldn't. . ."

"Robb I'm so sorry," his mother said, her voice laced with—

"I'm not angry with her for getting rid of the child. I was when I first found out but I understand her reasons now. No, I'm angry because she wasn't even planning on telling me. That she decided to get rid of something that we had _both_ created and didn't even tell me she was with child in the first place. Perhaps she was right too keep it from me however, chances are I would have. . ." his voice trailed off as his throat constricted with emotion.

His mother seemed conflicted as he looked at her, and though he knew she had his best interests at heart, he could see the underlying thoughts behind her eyes and it made him angry.

"You judge me for getting involved with her when the two of you have already conspired with each other," he stated, his voice hardening.

"How did you find out?" she asked him.

"Does it matter?" Robb returned.

There was a moment of silence before she replied, "No, I guess it doesn't."

* * *

Everra stares down at the blank piece of paper below her with a cold eye, her grip on the quill tightening. There were only two people she remotely _trusted_ enough to come over to Westeros and a handful of pirates who owed her a favour or two. _Is that enough?_ she wondered, _it had to be._

She pressed the quill down on the paper and began too write. A long while passed and she was finishing the final letter, though numerous crumpled pieces of paper were tossed upon her desk. She had finally settled on the two letters she was going to send off.

She was signing her name when the door flew open and Catelyn Stark came marching through the door, causing Andromache to begin to growl at her from where she lay under the desk by Everra's feet. Everra did not look up from her letter as the woman walked towards her, and did not even spare her a glance.

The door shut quickly, leaving the two of them alone in her chamber. The only sound in the room was of Everra's pen on the paper.

"How _could_ you?" Catelyn asked, exasperated. Everra paused mid-sentence, her hand still curled around the quill, "How may I help you Lady Stark?"

"How may you—How may you help me?" Catelyn questioned, her voice breathy, "Why you—"

Everra laid down her pen and glanced at Catelyn Stark, whose face was flushed red with anger. Her gaze was cold and calculated as she commented, not really surprised, "He told you." She didn't have to clarify who _he_ was.

Catelyn let out a small, bitter laugh, "Yes, he told me."

Everra let out a small breath at that, yet masked how uncomfortable she felt.

"And?"

"I knew you were a cruel woman," Catelyn started, her voice venomous, "But Robb didn't come crying to me about his pain, which you undeniably caused. You want to know how I guessed something was amiss?" Everra knew that wasn't a question she was meant to answer. "It was the look of complete and utter heartbreak on my son's face whenever he thought you weren't looking."

The lump in Everra's throat had never been more evident.

"When this war is over, you will leave his side and take your corrupting ways with you and leave him alone. He will be much better without your influence—"

"Your son would be dead by now if it wasn't for me, Lady Catelyn," Everra snapped sharply, "And _never_ presume to tell me what I should do ever again."

A tense silence followed after her words.

"You don't know that," Catelyn said tersely.

Everra let out a small sound of bitter amusement, "But I do."

Catelyn frowned at her, her eyes growing suspicious. "Wh—"

"Leave, Lady Stark," Everra told her, picking up her pen and turning her attention back to the letter, "You have said everything you needed to say and now you may go."

"You don't dismiss me my lady."

"I wasn't dismissing you, Lady Stark, I was merely suggesting that you get out of my sight, now." She could feel Catelyn's glare on her skull, but she did not look up. With a loud sigh, the older woman turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Everra dropped the pen the moment the door closed, and buried her face in her hands.

* * *

Everra watched the ravens fly off into the sky from the battlements, watching as they soared higher and higher. The sky was a orange canvas mixed with yellows and purples. A soft breeze shifted through her, tousling her long, raven locks.

"My lady," a voice called. Everra stiffened as she realised who it was, her peace broken.

"Prince Oberyn," she acknowledged, turning to face her betrothed.

He was handsome, she had to admit, in a peculiar sort of way. Oberyn held himself with a certain. . .elegance that she did not often see in a man, though Everra had not seen much of him over the course of the week since he arrived. She had seen even less of his lover too.

He sauntered over towards her, a sly smile planted on his face as he grabbed a hold of her hand and kissed it, before intertwining their arms. "My lady, I was wondering if you would give me a tour of your home. I have seen so little of it since I arrived, and Ellaria spoke to me of its beauty."

 _When you weren't fucking her?_ Everra thought, regarding the Dornishman carefully. They began walking across the battlements, their pace slow and even. They walked in silence for a while, before Oberyn spoke, "My lady, I must say your home is the most peculiar looking place I have ever visited."

"Am I supposed to thank you for that attempt at a compliment?" she asked coldly, looking ahead.

"I'm not too sure that was meant as a compliment, my lady. Your home has a dark aura to it," Oberyn retorted, his accent thick as he spoke.

"I wasn't aware that you believed in ghosts, my lord."

"With all due respect my lady, your castle, while impressive, has been the subject of many dark events. " They had a clear view of the main castle, and the two triangle-headed towers on each side of it.

Everra regarded Oberyn, her eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly, "You've heard the rumours." It wasn't a question.

"I heard that you butchered one of your bannermen in what is known as the 'blood feast'. I heard that you poisoned his son right in front of him and his wife, before your pet bit his face off and you butchered his wife in this very castle and on your homecoming. You must have had a very hard time making people love you."

Everra stopped in her tracks, and disentangled their arms.

"You can't make people love you but you can make them fear you." She took a step closer to him, her eyes cold and her voice threatening, "Never presume to lay your hands on me again without my permission, is that understood?"

Oberyn's eyes sparkled with slight amusement as he looked at her, but he also looked contemplative as he stared at her.

"We are going to be doing a lot more than touching in a few months," he commented lightly, yet did not move to touch her again. Everra snorted slightly at that, before walking ahead of him.

"The same way you and the King do a little more than touching." Everra halted in her steps, her eyes narrowing before she whirled around to look at him and stalked towards him, fury boiling in her veins.

"What did you just say?" she asked quietly, her eyes unreadable.

"You heard me," Oberyn said uncaringly, "You and the King have a . . . _relationship._ I must admit I was surprised too find out that the rumours were true—" at her blank look he let out a small laugh, "You haven't heard them? Beyond this castle they call you the Queen without the crown. They saw that though Robb Stark is betrothed to another that you are the true Queen."

"That is not true," Everra said calmly, "I have no such relationship with the King." _Not anymore._

Oberyn stared into her eyes intently, before letting out a small sigh, "Whatever you say, my lady. I would still like for you too give me a tour of your home."

They had moved down into the front courtyard when Oberyn finally broke the silence that had formed between them.

"Tell me," he commented, "How old were you when you first killed someone?"

Everra shot him a glance from where she walked next too him, and asked carefully, "Why do you want to know?"

Oberyn shrugged and replied, "I've heard that you killed someone whilst still in your crib. I was merely curious as to whether or not I am marrying some freakishly strong women."

"I was younger than most," Everra vaguely replied, before taking a turn to the left, to the path leading towards the back courtyards.

"And you trained for how long?"

"Several years," she replied shortly, "My father believed in early schooling."

Oberyn let out a small chuckle at that, as though he found what she said amusing, "Ah, your father. Horrible man. I never liked him."

Everra shot him a glance and replied, "Not many did." Everra wasn't surprised too hear it. Her father had been an avid supporter of Robert Baratheon's in the war.

"I was surprised too hear how he died," he commented, shooting her a glance, "I heard that you were there with him when he was killed by that assassin. They said you were injured as well."

"I was a child when it happened," Everra said sharply, "I barely remembered what happened." The lie was a familiar one and it slipped easily from her tongue. The truth was she remembered very detail from that night. From how her father's eyes had widened in surprise when she first stabbed him to how lifeless they had looked when he crumbled to the floor, dead.

"Yes," Oberyn agreed, "Indeed you were."

There was a pause before she asked him something, "Do you think your brother will join us?"

There was a slight shift in Oberyn's eyes then, something very akin to guilt, "I know he will."

"How?" Everra asked suspiciously.

"Lets just say I know he will."

* * *

Everra had taken him all across RedRun's grounds when Oberyn finally asks her to take him to the dungeons. She agree's easily, though she is slightly suspicious as to _why_ exactly he wants to go down there. The air was cold at the bottom of the castle, and it was dark the only source of light being the torches hung on the walls. Dorv was there to greet them, and Everra shot him a second glance as she noticed how surprised he was.

"Why do you look so surprised?" she asked him harshly.

She could smell his stench from where she stood and resisted the urge to school him on the benefits of taking a bath.

"The prisoner seems to be very po'ular m'lady," his words were slightly slurred, "The red-haired one. Seven hells, the King visited her just a few days ago."

Everra's eyes narrowed, and grew substantially colder.

"Did he now?" she questioned, ignoring Oberyn's look.

Dorv now looked uneasy as he stared at her, and he nodded reluctantly.

"Take me to her," she commanded, waiting impatiently as Dorv got a hold of the keys. She walked briskly down the dark hallway, a few steps in front of Oberyn and the jail keeper. Dorv opened the door quickly and with just a sharp look from Everra he practically ran back up the hall, leaving only Oberyn and her in the cell, along with Melisandre.

Everra looked down at the red-haired woman, who was gazing at her with a smirk plastered on her face.

"What poison did you tell the King?" she asked brusquely. Oberyn shut the door behind them, yet stood quiet behind her.

Melisandre tilted her head to the side and her gaze flickered to Oberyn.

"I am surprised you agreed to marry her, Prince of Dorne," her voice was deep when she spoke, "I know you have heard of the Legrath family curse. Each Legrath Lord will be cursed to have only one child from a random woman, whether they are highborn or lowborn does not matter. Until the day a girl is born and—"

She was promptly cut off by Everra slamming her fist across her face, causing blood to dribble down her chin.

"What did you say?" Everra ground out, her eyes blazing with fury.

"I merely told him the truth," was all she said in return, and she looked at her triumphantly, as though she had won.

"I wouldn't look so triumphant," Everra told her, "If I see your lips curled into that smile ever again you will no longer have lips to smile with."

The triumphant smile slipped from the witches lips slowly and soon they were both glaring at each other.

"I killed your King," Everra commented coldly, watching her features.

"And the Lord of Light will punish you for it," the red woman returned.

"Will he?"

* * *

When they finally make their way up to the surface of the castle, Everra's heart is pounding in her ears. Oberyn had been naturally quiet as they walked up the stairs, and when the finally made it outside Everra let out a loud breath.

"You've met her before?" he asked.

Everra nodded, a few strands of unpinned hair blowing into her face, "She tried to kill me."

They stared at each other for a long moment then, and something very akin to understanding was evident on Oberyn's face. They were standing near a corner of the hallway, which led to another one. Anyone would merely have to turn the corner to immediately come upon them.

"Your a good liar," he commented, taking a step towards her.

Everra raised an eyebrow at him.

"What did I lie about?"

He raised one in return, "I think we both know what precisely you lied about."

Everra's gaze narrowed slightly as she stared at him, but she didn't say anything for a moment.

"There is nothing going on between the King and I," she told him.

Oberyn raised both eyebrow's then, his dark eyes flashing before he said, "Well then you won't mind if I do this." Before Everra could even ask what exactly he meant, he had cupped her face in his hands and kissed her hard on the lips. His lips were dry against her soft ones but it was not unpleasant. She drew away from him quickly and took a step back, rubbing her hand across her lips.

"What was that for?" she asked him angrily.

"Confirmation," he replied, glancing at somebody behind her. Everra's heart sunk in her chest as she swallowed, yet she was careful to keep her face unreadable in front of Oberyn, who she was looking at carefully.

She turned on her heel and was met with the instant sight of Robb standing a few meters in front of her, his eyes filled with shock.

"Your grace," she said, trying to sound normal.

His gaze flickered between the two of them, and Everra noticed how his hands were curled into fists at his side.

"I will leave the two of you," Oberyn said from behind her, "I believe you both look as though you need to talk." She heard him shuffle around behind her, but she waited until his footsteps echoed away from them before she said anything.

"Robb. . ." she drifted off, staring at him. He looked as though he was still having difficulty processing what he just saw. He was blinking rapidly, his blue eyes wide; it was as though he were trying to unsee what he saw.

"You two are getting along well," he said, his voice hard.

Everra glanced down at the floor quickly, before glancing around to see whether or not anyone was watching them. There was a door a few steps behind Robb and she glanced at it meaningfully and started to walk towards there, Robb at her heels. Once they were safely inside the room she started, "What you saw wasn't—"

"There is no need for you to explain yourself," Robb interrupted, "It is perfectly normal for people who are betrothed to develop feelings for one another—"

"I do not have _feelings_ for the Viper—"

"I forgot; You don't have feelings for anyone," Robb snapped at her, his blue eyes finally showing all the hurt he was feeling.

Everra let out a small sigh at that, her eyes focused on his face. _That's not true._ The words were on the tip of her tongue but something always held her back. Her eyes drifted down to his lips for a moment too long, but by the time she had returned her gaze to his eyes she realised he was doing the same with hers. They stared at each other for a long moment, the empty room suddenly feeling very hot.

"I wouldn't throw myself at another man so. . . _soon_ after—after what happened," she said, the words were like fire in her mouth.

"Why wouldn't you?" Robb asked, frustrated, "because one mo—"

He was cut off by her lips descending onto his.

* * *

The boy was frightened. A man-boy many called him; a boy on the verge of becoming a man. He had never left his homeland before and with good reason. He had been locked in the room for a little over a week and no one had told him why. Everything had been fine and happy when he arrived, but the happiness had disappeared as quick as it had come.

He was shaking as he stared at the large wooden door, which no doubt was guarded by numerous soldiers. Not _his_ ones. They had most likely been slaughtered, he realised. The thought made his heart clench in his chest, and make the shaking grow.

 _I must be strong,_ he thought, _remember your words; Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken._

He had left Dorne with a heavy heart, but knowing that he would return one day, hopefully with a bride of golden hair. Now, he was doubtful he would ever see his home again, that he would ever see the sandy beaches of Dorne once more, or taste the sweetness of fresh Dornish wine. He would never be able to walk in his gardens ever again, and the thought brought him such sorrow he nearly collapsed onto the ground.

He sighed loudly and it was then that the door flung open, and two gold cloaks barged into the room. He had barely opened his mouth when they stalked towards him, grabbing both of his arms roughly and practically dragging him away.

"What is going—"

The one on his left slammed his fist into his cheek, and he felt the instant taste of blood in his mouth. His cheek throbbed with a pain he had never felt before but he refused to let out any sign of his pain.

 _Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken._

He let his body grow limp as they dragged him into the throne room, and his gaze was plastered to the tossed him in front of the throne, causing him to land painfully on his knee's, to the laughter of others. He slowly dragged his head upward, so that he was now staring at _him._ Joffery Baratheon. He was a slimy, disgusting character who was the worst person he had ever met. With his slimy smirk and cruel eyes, Joffrey Baratheon was the epitome of everything bad in the world.

He glanced to the side of him, where his mother, Cersei Lannister sat, but he found no sight of Tyrion or Tywin Lannister. She looked anxious, abnormally anxious as he looked at her son. His gaze drifted off more to the left and he caught the eye of Sansa Stark. She was a depressed girl, yet her beauty was undeniable, and her sadness was not without reason.

"Trystane Martell," the king announced, his words gleeful. Trystane tried to hide his fear, and managed to compel his limbs to stop shaking. _Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken._ I don't want to die, he thought, please gods I want too grow up.

"Your grace," he returned, his voice sounding surprisingly steady.

"You are charged with conspiring to commit treason," Cersei Lannister said, her voice as sharp as knives.

"I know not of what you speak," Trystane pleaded, blood dribbling down his mouth as he did so, "My father sent me here to negotiate an alliance, nothing more—"

"Liar!" the king yelled, his voice shrill and his words echoed across the hall.

"Your uncle has conspired with the Young Wolf and Lady Everra Legrath, and has openly declared for them, therefore becoming our enemy. What treason did you plan to commit here?"

"Nothing!" Trystane cried, "I have committed no treason, nor did I ever plan too."

"You lie," she accused, her green eyes cold. She glanced towards her son, who now had a sadistic smile painted across his face.

"Guards!" he yelled, "Kill him."

His eyes widened with horror and his mouth opened in a plea before the guards yanked on his curls, titling his head back to expose his throat. _Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken. I'm so sorry father,_ he thought, before the knife was pressed to his throat and then he knew nothing.

 **A/N HELLO EVERYONE! Its been a while. I just got back from vacation like a day and a half ago, so thats why its been so long. This chapter was kinda hard to write. Don't know why but it was. I hoped you all enjoyed it, I know a lot of you were wondering about Everra/Oberyn and I hope you guys found their dynamic interesting. AND OMG Your response to last chapter was amazing. We are almost at 300 follows and over 150 reviews! Wow guys, thank you so much. Tell me your thoughts about this chapter, and if you have nay questions, please feel free to PM me.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Fionakevin073**


	40. Chapter 37: The Echo of Rage

**A/N HELLO GUYS! First off, thank you all so much for your support and your advice, it means so much to me guys. Secondly, we have exactly 3 more chapters left guys :( thank you for joining me on this journey. Thirdly, there is a lot of talk about ships in this chapter, and a lot of it is pure speculation on my part and estimating. Finally, Saint River you mentioned in your comment about what Melisandre was talking about last chapter. Well, if any of you re-read the story, especially the first few chapters, there is brief mention of a curse on the Legrath house that only one child will be born to each of the Lords. There is the second part of the 'curse', and Melisandre was about to reveal what it was before Everra hit her. It will be revealed in due time, don't worry :) Thanks again guys. Remember to review!**

 **Until next time,**

 **Fionakevin073**

Chapter 37

 **In Kings Landing**

Sansa yelped at the pain that coursed through her when the back of Ser Meryn's sword hit her. She stumbled over to the side, clutching at the newly bruised area when he struck again, this time on the back of her left leg. She fell down onto the ground then with a gasp of pain, and glanced up to look at Joffery, who was smirking at her. He had decided to conduct his 'punishment' in her chambers this time around, claiming that his beloved Margaery did not deserve to see such a sight. A tear swam down her cheek, and she wiped at it furiously and braced herself for his next hit.

"Enough," Joffery commanded, and Sansa was careful not to show her relief. Her auburn hair was half-stuck to her neck from sweat and she tucked a strand of it behind her ear, careful not to look too low, nor too high at Joffery. "Hmmm, Ser Meryn?" Joffery asked sadistically, and she could hear his steps grow closer to her, "Now that my uncle and grandfather are in council, dear sweet Sansa, you have no one to protect you." He grabbed a piece of her hair and tugged at it, and she could practically _feel_ his smug smile. "So pretty," he murmured, "How, so very pretty." Sansa's heart was beating furiously in her chest, the echo's of pain long forgotten in place of fear. "Ser Meryn bring me your knife."

Sansa's heart dropped.

* * *

 **In the Bloodlands**

Robb let their lips touch for longer than he should have. The first thoughts that course through him were, _I missed this; I missed you_ and then _what am I doing?_ He pulled away abruptly, a gasp escaping his lips as he took a few steps away from her. Everra was regarding him with a carefully concealed expression, and it made his blood grow cold.

"What was that?" Robb snapped at her, his blue eyes widening.

"What was what?" She taunted, her green eyes flashing with something. Robb felt his jaw tighten with frustration, and then his eyes were flashing too. "You just kissed me." It almost sounded like an accusation, as though what she did was something completely out of the blue. Robb could still feel the aftermath of it now, how fire had sprung in his veins and his stomach had tightened. Robb stared at her suspiciously as she didn't answer, and he could see her thoughts running behind her eyes. Thoughts that he could never guess; and in that moment, he was tired of trying too. He sighed loudly, and scraped a hand over his face and muttered tiredly, "You can't just. . . _kiss me_ and make it better."

She raised an eyebrow at him, her green eyes showing just a glint of _something_ that gave him the courage to carry on. "It doesn't work that way," He told her, letting out yet another sigh. There were a few moments of silence before she asked quietly, "Then how does this work?" Robb scoffed at that, and ran his hand through his curls, confusion and frustration crushing into one emotion that rocked him to his very core. "It doesn't," he answered, and then waved a hand between them, "I told you that I couldn't forgive you Everra. And I meant that. I still do."

Her eyes were not soft but they were not cold either, simply a mixture of both that confused him, though he hid it carefully under a defeated mask. He looked away from her to stare at the wall, and it was mere moments later that he felt her hands on his cheeks, and she turned his head to look at her. It was the first time Robb had seen something similar to gentleness in her eyes as she appraised him, and he could feel her hand caress his cheek. "I know," she admitted quietly, her eyes flickering over his face, "I wouldn't expect any different from you." The admission made his heart clench, and though he did miss her, he couldn't be with her. Not now. Not ever, truly, despite the fact that he wanted too.

She pressed her lips onto his in a gentle, chaste kiss and pulled away from him, retracting her hand. Her eyes were unreadable once more, but Robb knew that she understood, and would not pressure him to forgive her anytime soon. "Friends?" He asked, the word slipping out of his mouth before he could stop himself. She raised both eyebrows at him this time, and her lips curled upward in a rare smile, "As my King commands." Robb let out a hesitant chuckle before the sound quickly dissolved, and the tension between them was fragile.

"You should leave first, your grace," she told him, her eyes resting on the door behind him. Robb nodded awkwardly and moved to leave the room before stopping. "Thank you." He slipped out of the room before she could reply.

* * *

It was three days later when Everra was woken in the night by a rapid knock on her chamber door. Andromache leapt out of the bed in alarm, and began to growl softly. Everra also got out of the bed fast, and went to the wardrobe to get a robe and tied it around the middle so as to cover herself in only her night gown. She moved towards the door and opened it, and her eyes were instantly met by the flame in Lord Yullian's hand. "My lady I am sorry to disturb you so late in the night but you said to call on you when word came from King's Landing—"

"Say no more until we are in private," Everra stated, and Andromache came up to her side. She moved out of the room hurriedly and the door slammed shut behind her. "Get the King, Lady Catelyn, Prince Oberyn, Jon and the rest of the Northern Bannermen and take them to the council room." She moved to leave before his voice stopped her, "My lady Prince Oberyn is already there."

She whirled around to stare at him and snarled, "Why was he told before me?" Lord Yullian hesitated for a moment before replying, "He received news of his own." Everra frowned at that, and nodded absentmindedly before changing her mind, "Lord Yullian only summon the King, Jon and Lady Catelyn then." She could see him nod in the shadows and just as she began to move he yet again stopped her. "My lady?" It was almost a question now.

"Yes?" she asked, annoyed.

"Do you want my torch?"

Everra nearly let out a sigh at that. "No, Lord Yullian though thank you for your offer." And then she hurried down the hallway with Andromache at her heels in the darkness. Every step made her increase her speed until by the time she had finally reached the last hallway she was practically running. When she finally reached the council room she nearly flung open the door, and barged into the room which was already occupied by two.

Oberyn was sitting in a chair directly facing the door, with Ellaria wrapping her arms around him from behind. Everra saw them both jump at the sight of her, and Ellaria nearly retracted her arms from Oberyn. But what caught her eye was Oberyn himself. His face was unnaturally pale, and his dark eyes lacked their usual arrogant stare. His eyes instead looked sunken into his head, and he looked solemn, sad even. His sight was enough.

"Who died?" she demanded, and snatched the sealed piece of paper off the table. She knew that one was meant for her because it was unopened, something she quickly rectified. As she suspected, it was from Tyrion. Her eyes scanned over the message quickly, and when she reached the end of it her eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and her hands clenched the paper slightly tighter. "My condolences," she offered flatly. She could see Ellaria glare at her in shock and anger from the corner of her eye and so she turned to stare at the elder woman, her face a perfect mask. They stared at each other for a long while, before Everra returned her gaze to Oberyn.

"I take it this means your brother is joining us?" She asked, rather insensitively. Oberyn raised his dark eyes to look into her green ones, and the grief— and guilt— in them surprised her. He nodded numbly, and she could see his throat move when he swallowed. Something occurred to her in that moment, and so she placed the paper carefully onto the table and spoke, "You knew, didn't you?"

Her gaze pierced into his skin. "That's what you meant a few days ago?" she continued, "You knew your brother would join us because your nephew was sent into King's Landing." And then her voice sounded almost surprised, "You let him die." As soon as the words left her mouth Oberyn snapped. "No," he protested vehemently, "I merely thought they would hold him hostage and that would provoke Doran into joining us." His Dornish accent was so thick then he was barely understandable. Everra could have pitied him, if she didn't think his actions were rash and idiotic. "You received our message far longer than you let on," she realised, "You most likely didn't even show it to your brother. You waited until your nephew was on his way to Kings Landing before coming here by boat with your men." To his credit, Oberyn didn't deny it. Everra had to admire his willingness and determination to do whatever it took for his vengeance, but was slightly disappointed by his rashness.

"He wasn't supposed to have died. . .not there. Not. . . not so young," Oberyn muttered, and ran a hand over his face. _This was really bothering him,_ Everra realised, _he genuinely feels guilty for the death of his nephew._ The realisation did not release her of her indifference but it did make her soften ever-so-slightly. She cast a glance towards Ellaria and asked her politely, "May you give my betrothed and I a moment in private before the rest arrive?" Ellaria looked as though she were about to protest before Everra quickly cut her off, "That wasn't an option." She flushed under Everra's gaze and pressed one last kiss to Oberyn's lips before hurrying out of the room. Everra knew she had to act quickly before Robb, Jon and his mother arrived, and so she strode over towards him and grasped onto his face tightly, her stare piercing into his own.

"This is not the time to mourn, Prince Oberyn. I know you feel guilty and perhaps rightfully so but you can feel guilty later alright? For now, I need you to be the vengeance seeker I've heard that you are. You can't let your emotions get a hold of you, not now, not yet. Do you hear me?" Oberyn nodded and finally— thankfully— she saw the fire return to his eyes, even if his skin still had the unhealthy look of grief. "Good," she reaffirmed, and let go of his face, and walked to the chair where she usually sat.

It was the moment that she sat down when Robb, Jon and Catelyn burst into the room.

"What happened?" Robb asked loudly.

Everra and Oberyn exchanged a quick glance before Everra leaned over and slid the opened letter across the table in his direction.

"Read for yourself, your grace," Everra told him, watching his reaction closely. Robb eyed her for a moment before nodding and snatching the paper off the paper. Jon made his way over to beside Everra, his hair tangled and black circles around his eyes. "Are you alright?' he asked her, quiet enough so only she could hear. Everra regarded her brother for a moment, and wondered whether or not he knew that Robb knew the truth. "I'm fine," she murmured, and turned her attention back towards Robb.

She didn't even glance in Catelyn's direction, though she could feel the older woman glaring a hole into her head.

 _If looks could kill,_ Everra thought. Robb's eyes widened as he reached the end of the letter, and he turned to glance at Oberyn, his eyes hooded. "I apologise for your loss." He meant it too. Everra knew he did. Oberyn nodded his thanks but didn't say anything else. At Jon's confused expression Everra clarified, "Prince Trystane is dead."

Shock fluttered through Jon's features and he offered his condolences to Oberyn with a quiet, steady voice. "My brother Doran should be sending more men our way, and more ships." Robb cast Everra a glance, and asked lowly, "How many ships do the Martells have?" It took her a few moments to reply. "Approximately forty your grace," she told him, and then glanced at Oberyn. He nodded absently and murmured in return, "I used most of them to come here."

"Fortunately enough, the Bloodlands are close to the sea but it was only by a mere miracle that those forty ships managed to land here and not be crushed. If the ships from Essos are to come, we either need to build a port— a _large_ one or find somewhere else to dock them because the Bloodlands port is far too small."

"You managed to smuggle 16,000 soldiers into Westeros without anyone noticing," Oberyn said in an accusing voice, "How did you do so without a port?"

Everra cast him a glance and answered roughly, "I did that over the course of six months, Prince Oberyn, I had time on my side. We don't. We've been sitting here idly by for close to half a year, we need to move or they will."

Robb was watching her closely, his face taunt before his eyes widened with realisation. "Lady Everra," he began, and quickly manoeuvred around the room to get a map and unroll it onto the table, "We have not yet heard back from Dragon Stone but it has a large port _and_ it is close to Kings Landing. If we can get Dragonstone on our side then we will have the port."

"The only problem that remains is getting them on our side, your grace. Selyse Baratheon is stubborn, she will very reluctantly join us. We did defeat her husband and practically wiped out his troops in the Battle of the Blood, your grace."

"Precisely," Robb returned and placed his finger on Dragonstone, "She had few supporters since her husband took most of their men with him. The men that he took from Renly are either dead, prisoners or returned home. She is sitting on one of the most strategic castles in the whole of Westeros, and to us, arguably the _most_ strategic."

"Your grace," Catelyn started, her blue eyes dark with worry, "What will you offer her in return for the castle?"

Robb sighed for a moment before replying, "I will make her daughter a princess by marrying her to Rickon."

"The girl is said to be cursed Robb," Catelyn protested, "With grey scale scars—"

"Having scars on her face does not make her a monster," Robb swiftly replied and glanced at Everra and Jon.

"If she doesn't agree?" Oberyn asked, and he looked at Robb with fascination and with a glint in his eyes that indicated he was impressed.

"Then we take it by force," Robb replied.

* * *

The letter was written, sealed and sent to Dragon Stone within the hour after Robb's decision, and it was later on that day after they had all returned to their chambers when Robb shared the plan with the northern lords at the council meeting.

"If we take Dragonstone we will have the greatest strategic port for us. The Bloodlands does not have a big enough port and we do not have the resources to begin building another, larger one. If Selyse Baratheon agrees, we will send twenty of the twenty five ships that Oberyn used to Dragon stone and have them parked there. We will wait until the Essosi reply before informing them of sending majority of their ships to Dragonstone."

There was silence in the room before Everra began to speak. "While that is underway, it is time for us to begin to plan for the attack on Kings Landing. Soon enough, we will have the numbers to lay siege on the Red Keep due to Prince Doran's contribution to our cause." She hesitated for only a moment before gesturing for Jon to place the sealed map on the table. "I was given this map when I visited Kings Landing over year ago. This map details all the hidden passages within Kings Landing—"

She was interrupted by a rapid knock on the door, and before Robb could even let him in the guard burst into the room, his face red. He was holding a dark box with a silver ribbon tied at the top in his hands and they all rose at the sight of him.

"Forgive me your grace," he panted, his hands practically shaking as he held the box, "This came from Kings Landing."

Everra heard some of the Northern Lords swear under their breaths, and she and Jon exchanged a terse glance before Robb spoke, "Has anyone opened it?"

The guard shook his head and she could see Robb stiffen. Lady Catelyn's eyes were wide with worry as she hurried over to the guard, "Place it on the table," she commanded and then whirled around to stare at all of them. "Leave us, my lords, my lady."

They all shuffled out of the room without a protest, even Everra.

* * *

Robb and his mother stared at that box with increasing anxiousness, yet neither moved to open it. No doubt they both had the same things on their mind; Sansa. Robb had tried within the past few months to not let his worry for his sister occupy his thoughts, and for the most part he had succeeded, if not for rare moments in the night. His mother, he knew, did not share his restraint, and that every waking thought she had was underlined with worry for her eldest daughter, and fear as well.

The guilt Robb felt suddenly increased tenfold and with a quick sigh he moved towards the box, his heart pounding in his chest. "Do you think. . " his mothers voice drifted off into nothing. She sounded and looked as though the weight of the world was on top of her shoulders. He knew what she meant though, if the lump in his throat said anything. _Do you think that's her head?_ Robb didn't know, but he knew he had to find out, even if it killed him to do so.

So he gingerly untied the bow, and his bones felt so fragile he thought they would break from the mere movement. Gently, he lifted the lid of the box and hesitantly glanced down, and what he saw both sent his heart soaring and dropping in his chest. A sound pain escaped his throat, and his mother hurried to his side, breathless. "What is it Robb—" Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the box's contents, and her eyes filled with grief as she lifted a hand to her mouth.

Robb felt bile rise up in his throat as he glared down at the box, and the fury that boiled in his veins was unlike any other he had ever experienced. All he could hear was his heart pounding with the beat of his anger _thud thud thud_ it went. His jaw tightened and his hands curled into fists at his side, and with one last glance towards his mother he strode out of the room, his blue eyes blazing.

He wasn't surprised at the sight of the Lords waiting outside the council room and with a low, angry voice he commanded, "Lord Karstark." The old man turned to face him, and he must have recognised the look in his eyes because he quickly reached for his sword. "Come with me."

He could see Everra's face as he brushed past but in that moment he did not care. All he cared about was the anger running through his veins and quelling all other thought.

* * *

The Kingslayer was right where Robb knew him to be. In a cold, small dark cell in the dungeon of RedRun. The sight of the stinking and dirty man did little to lessen Robb's anger, but he had to admit that a small sliver of satisfaction coursed through him at the sight of the almighty Kingslayer.

"The King in the North," he drawled out, his green murky eyes flashing in the darkness. The only light in the room was that of a torch a guard was holding.

"Ser Jaime," Robb returned, his blue eyes like stone. Jaime cocked his head to the side, his tangled hair brushing over the front of his face as he appraised him.

"You look angry," even those words were a taunt, "Aww, are you here to speak to me of your problems? I must admit I am flattered for the offer—"

"Shut up if you know what's good for you," Lord Karstark snapped beside him, his sword withdrawn. Jaime noticed that as well, but he showed no fear in his eyes as he turned his head to look at Robb once more.

"You here to kill me?" he taunted, a smirk appearing on his lips, "Wouldn't be the wisest thing you've done, seeing as last time I checked my father had your sister—"

"Your son has done a very good job of showing us how much he _appreciates_ her," Robb interrupted with dark sarcasm, "Sending us some of her hair and bloodied skin, very original I must say Kingslayer. It is a wonder anyone in the seven kingdoms thinks there is even a possibility your bastard is not yours."

There was a beat before Jaime replied, "Are you going to kill me now, Stark? Send my head to my father in a pretty little box?"

It was Robb's turn to smirk at him now, and a dark sense of satisfaction seeped through him.

"No," he answered simply, watching the smile disappear from Jaime's face. Robb turned to glance at Lord Karstark, who was red in the face and obviously eager to run his sword through Jaime. Robb knew Jaime couldn't die, but that didn't mean he could not be hurt. He promised Lord Tyrion that Jaime would not be killed. He never said anything about punishment. It was what Everra had whispered to him when he felt like protesting Lord Tyrion's terms. He had not tortured the Kingslayer because he feared they would harm his sister. Now, he knew for sure they were harming her anyway. The thought of Sansa crying and helpless and being beaten sent yet another wave of anger through him and so with a low voice he commanded his guards to unchain Ser Jaime but keep his hands bound as well as his feet. He stepped aside from the door as to signal to another guard to enter the room with a small wooden block.

They dragged Jaime to the wooden block and waited for his next command.

"I'm not going to kill you," Robb told him darkly, "I'm going to take away the one thing that makes you who you are." There was a beat of silence before Robb continued, "Guards, place his right hand on the block." He exchanged a dark look with Lord Karstark and lifted two fingers. The older man did not look happy, but he nodded his consent. This was not the justice he wanted for his sons, but it was the closest thing that Robb could grant him.

Robb watched in silence as Lord Karstark walked up to Jaime Lannister, his sword dangling by his side as he held it in his right hand. Robb observed wordlessly as he lifted the sword over his head, and with one clean _swoosh_ brought it down, neatly slicing off two of Jaime Lannister's fingers. It was so silent a pin could drop and Robb would have heard it, before a loud scream erupted from Jaime's throat. It was more of a scream of shock rather than of pain, Robb noted, before turning around and stalking out of the cell, the sound of Jaime's scream echoing in his ears.

* * *

Everra stood in the council room long after the other Lords left, with only Jon and Catelyn for coming. The tension in the room kept on increasing with each passing moment, the only sound in the room being Catelyn's mutters. It sounded like 'my daughter, my daughter, oh dear gods. . '. Over and over until Everra almost began saying it herself.

She cast a glance towards the opened box, and even she could feel her stomach clenching slightly. Jon looked as though he had seen a ghost and as though he were about to be sick at any moment. She felt very tempted to say something, but kept quiet. _What would you say?_ she asked herself silently, _What could you possibly say that could make this any better?_ Everra remembered well the last conversation her and Catelyn Stark had, and she remembered that look in the older womans eye.

The look of complete and utter hatred and anger. No doubt she wouldn't want her apologises. Still though, Everra felt as though she should say something, if not for her own sake but for Jons and Robbs.

Almost as if he had heard her thoughts, Robb entered the room silently and did not seem surprised to find them still there. Everra resisted the urge to bombard him with questions and instead kept quiet, recognising that look in his eyes. He sighed loudly and walked further closer towards them, and cast a look of disdain towards the box. "Get that out of here," he muttered towards the guard behind him. Everra watched him soundlessly as he poured himself a glass of wine and sipped at it, before she finally asked, "Your grace, what. . . where did you go?"

A dark look crossed his face before he answered roughly, "I went to visit the Kingslayer."

"Why?" Catelyn asked before she could, her face having a haunted, hollow expression painted on it.

"Punishment," Robb answered shortly.

Everra felt her stomach clench before she questioned him, "Punishment of what kind?"

He looked at her— directly at her eyes and answered without remorse, "I had Lord Karstark chop off two of his fingers."

The relief that seeped through her was large but was quickly downed by the realisation of what this could lead too. "Your grace if Lord Tyrion finds out that you have been mistreating his brother he may turn on us."

"He won't find out," he returned, and took another gulp of his wine, "I'm not about to send him his fingers now am I?"

Everra could see Catelyn wince from the corner of her eye as well as Jon and for the first time ever she felt as though she could not reach him. As though he were there but untouchable. It was a strange feeling, and one that she hoped to never feel again. _Isn't this how he always feels with you?_ a small voice in her head asked and she shook it away and remained silent. She let out a small sigh and moved to exit the room, but just as she passed by Robb she murmured, "I hope you know what you are doing." And then she left.

* * *

 **In Volantis (a month after the events in the Bloodlands)**

To say the man was surprised would have been an understatement. He stared down at the opened letter with wide eyes that carefully supressed the surge of emotions inside him. His black hair brushed against his brow as his dark brown eyes narrowed in thought. _I never thought to hear of her ever again,_ he thought to himself, and stroked his chin. He was busy with the re-election of the triarchs; he had been one two years ago and was expected to be re-elected this year as one of the elephants.

He was little over thirty and considered to be one of the richest men in Volantis as his father before him. At the thought of his father a small pang hit him but he quickly brushed it aside and thought. _If she wrote to me she must have written to him as well._ His fingers drummed against the desk for a good long while as he thought. "You," he commanded in Valyrian to a nearby slave, "get me some wine." The slave nodded wordlessly and hurried out of the room, his eyes focused on the ground. Looking in the eyes of their Masters meant death, they knew that. Parquello knew it too.

It was hours later and he was still sitting in his study when a guard brought news that he had a visitor. He straightened in his chair and motioned for the guard to bring him in, knowing exactly who it was. Alexius Dahareys is a handsome man, with dark skin like his own but brown hair with a lean, muscular build. He is from the tiger party and though there are rumours of his election into the triarchy, Parquello knew them to be false. He was too young. Not that he had been much older when he was first elected, but still. He was a man of twenty and two.

"Alexius," he welcomed in valyrian, not rising from his chair.

The younger man nodded his respects and returned, "Parquello."

Alexius sat down in the chair across from him and they stared at each other for a long while before he spoke, "Are you going?"

Parquello knew the answer. He had known it since he had finished reading it.

"Yes."

* * *

 **In the Bloodlands**

It was the day that Robb received a reply from Dragonstone and he was sitting in his temporary solar, reading the letter with narrowed eyes. They had been receiving much news from letters over the past two months. Everra had gotten news from her people in Essos a little over a month before. Good news.

 _We know no god other than the Lord of the light._

 _We know no King but the King of the Iron Throne,_

 _whose name is Stannis._

 _Signed,_

 _Selyse Baratheon_

Everra sat next to him, watching him closely. They had begun acting as they had in the beginning. She as his advisor, and he as her listener. It was easier this way, Robb knew but it felt slightly strange. Slightly awkward. There were numerous times when they were alone or with Jon that he would have this sudden urge to touch her hair or her hands and then jerk back as if he had been burned. It was a strange situation, but Robb knew it was necessary. His scars had not yet healed and his hurts had not yet left him. If she wanted to say something about the arrangement, she never said it nor showed it— not that that was unusual.

He read over the letter once more and handed it over to her, and watched as she frowned. But then her eyes widened in realisation and he asked her "Everra?"

"The lord of light," she told him. Robb stared at her in confusion and raised both of his eyebrows. "Who taught them of the lord of light? Melisandre. We have her, if we can convince her to write to Selyse then—"

"We get Dragonstone," Robb finished, his eyes wide and relief flooding through him. He then let out a small chuckle and jested, "If only we had thought of that two months before."

Everra let out a small amused sigh at that and told him, "Once she see's that it is from her she'll reply a lot quicker."

* * *

It was later on that day when Everra was summoned to the front courtyard. "A host of men have been spotted heading for RedRun, my lady," Maester Liwin told her, eyeing the open door warily. Everra commanded Lord Yullian, who was standing next to them, to put archers on the battlements. She exchanged a glance with the Maester and told him, "I will go and greet them if it is who I think it is. Close the doors behind me."

She ignored his wide-eyed concern as she walked out of the gates and stood at the end of the bridge. She cast the front courtyard one last glance before the gate shut, Andromache leaping out at the last possible moment to stay by her side. Everra's heart was pounding in her chest, and a lump had begun to form in her throat. She turned to gaze at the hills above her, where surely enough a host of men including two palanquins came rolling down. She watched with a blank gaze and a heavy heart as they approached her and when the host stopped her heart jumped in her chest.

One of the men exited his palanquin and with the glint of his black hair in the sun her heart leaped to her throat.

"Uncle?"


	41. Chapter 38: Home

Chapter 38

The word was heavy on her tongue. They stared at each other for a long, tense moment, their eyes piercing into each other. Her's were the green of her father's, his were the brown of her mother's (and her brother's, though his were a slight different shade). They did look similar in a certain light. They both had the same raven locks and the same jaw, though his was more muscular while hers was more slender. But other than that, she didn't look like his sister.

Everra assumed that was one of the very many reasons he hated her.

"Welcome," she greeted cooly, and glanced back at where Alexius had jumped onto the ground, and had begun walking to him. Her uncle diverted his gaze from her to appraise RedRun and his mouth twisted as though he were amused by something.

"Is something funny?" She asked him sharply, observing his every move. Her uncle was probably the most dangerous man she had ever met, even if she had been a mere child when she first met him.

"No," he answered simply, and his accent was not that thick as he spoke, though there was something off that indicated he was not from here. "Apologies _my lady_ I was merely looking at the place where my sister committed suicide for the first time. Forgive me for being slightly bothered."

His stare was filled with venom as he looked at her, and she imagined that if her father were still alive he would have killed him. Everra was about to reply when she was cut off by the sound of Alexius's loud voice, his accent thick as he spoke, "Everra!" he greeted, stalking up to her and planting a kiss on her mouth. _Volantene,_ Everra thought, scowling, and pulled away from him before shooting him a cold, levelled look.

"Alexius," she said in her usual monotone, "I am betrothed." He raised an eyebrow at that, but grudgingly took a step away from her, "And here in Westeros people do not take it too kindly when strangers kiss them on the mouth in greeting. As a matter of fact, they don't appreciate that anywhere."

"You've been away from Essos far too long," he said, as though he had not even heard what she had said, "And from Volantis even longer."

"This is my home, Alexius," she told him, her eyes unreadable, "And it's Lady Everra to you. Same as it has always been before."

"How touching," her Uncle deadpanned, shooting Alexius a look of annoyance. Everra turned and waved a hand over her head, signalling for them to open the door. They took a few steps away from the door, and waited for it to open.

"I am surprised that you both travelled away from Volantis," she murmured, glancing between the two of them.

"Why ever not?" Her uncle retorted, "We have never been to Westeros before."

There was a few moments of silence as they waited for the doors to open, and once they did they all wordlessly walked into the front courtyard, and she watched in silence as they observed her castle. Alexius with an expression of curiosity and her uncle with a blank expression. No doubt he was thinking of her mother, his elder sister. _This is going to be horrible,_ she thought to herself, and looked at the steps leading into the castle and was somehow not surprised to find Jon, Robb, Lady Catelyn and many other awaiting them there.

She returned to them silently, before turning once more to look at her uncle and Alexius.

"Your grace," she said, pausing for a moment before introducing them, "Meet my uncle, Lord Parquello and Lord Alexius." Robb's eyes widened at that, before they narrowed at her and she could see others look at each other in surprise at the mention of her _uncle._ She spared Jon a glance, whose eyes had widened so considerably on his face she thought they would pop out. He looked more like their mother than she ever did, and she was counting on that for her Uncle's support.

 _I'll explain later,_ she wanted to say but instead conveyed that in her eyes.

"Your grace," her uncle echoed uncaringly, with Alexius doing the same. They did not care for the Kings and noble families of Westeros. They were here because. . . it wasn't for her, at least not with her uncle and she doubted that was why Alexius came as well. Alexius owed her a debt for her saving his life all those years ago and her uncle. . . they were family, despite their bad relationship. Her mother had told her of their 'strong bond' as children.

She watched expressionless as Alexius searched the crowd for someone and then she remembered with a jolt that he had known—

"Where is Daavos?" He asked her, his eyes questioning. Daavos had been his friend once, or at least they had shared a few cups of wine over supper a few times, if that could count as friendship.

"He's dead," she told him, watching as he nodded, as though he had somehow already guessed it when he saw that Daavos wasn't by her side.

"How did he die?"

She frowned at him ever-so-slightly and after a moment of not replying she spoke, "I killed him for treason."

His eyes grew wide at that, almost as if in surprise, his eyebrows rising on his face.

"Lovely," her uncle stated, and she kept her eyes on his every move as introductions were made.

She stayed silent until he and Alexius reached Oberyn and she most have surprised many as she moved to his side, their arms brushing against each other. "Uncle, Alexius, meet my betrothed; Prince Oberyn of Dorne."

There is a few moments of silence before they greet each other and whatnot and by that time Everra's suspicion and wariness of her uncle has died down a little but it is still not fully gone.

* * *

It was when Everra and Robb were making their way down to the dungeons that he asked her incredulously, "Your uncle? I didn't even know you had an uncle—"

"I never told you because he despises me," Everra interrupted, shooting him a look.

Their strides were brisk as they continued down to the dungeons. "Why does he despise you?" he asked quietly.

"He hates me because I am my father's daughter," she told him numbly, "Because I couldn't stop my mother from throwing herself off those battlements. Because she got pregnant with me in the first place."

Robb frowned at her in the darkness, though they both continued on moving, "He should know that you had no control over that—"

"He does," she told him, "He just doesn't care. The only reason why he is probably here is to meet Jon."

"He knows—"

"Yes," she cut him off firmly, and they brushed past the jailor, who quickly followed behind them and shakily opened the door to Melissandre's cell.

The door closes behind them with a loud _bang_ which wakes Melissandre with a sudden jolt.

"Your grace," she says, her voice laced with surprise. Which was slightly unusual for someone like _her._ Everra had not visited her since she had slammed her fist into her face nor had she told Robb of her visit. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Everra was eager to leave this cell and _her_ as fast as she could.

"We have a proposition for you," she began, walking towards her.

"We want you to write to Selyse Baratheon and tell her to accept our alliance and offer of marriage for her daughter to Rickon Stark. Tell her to accept all terms," Robb said from behind her. Melissandre looked up at her, her eyes wide and eery. "Why should I?" she asked, and her tone was slightly mocking.

"Because if you do, and if we win, we will let you go," Everra said reluctantly, "Whether you travel back to Dragonstone or wherever you crawled out from is up to you. However, you will swear to your precious god of light to never rise up against either of us in exchange for your freedom."

Melissandre blinked, as though she were surprised by the terms and she was only silent for a few moments before she gave them her answer. And then as Robb left the cell, Melissandre whispered something to her, that made her skin grow cold.

(A letter was sent to Dragonstone that same say)

* * *

Everra was in her solar when Maester Liwin approached her, with Lord Yullian behind him. She stared up at them from where she sat behind her desk, a pen in her hand.

"Maester," she greeted, before her gaze flickered to Lord Yullian, "My lord."

"My lady," they both echoed, bowing accordingly.

"To what do I owe this visit?" she asked, her cool gaze washing over them both.

Maester Liwin clasped his hands together and cleared his throat before he began, "My lady, it has recently occurred to me that you have no heir of your own or any other heir presumptive since you have no other relatives from your father's side. If you shall die, who shall inherit your title and your lands?"

It took a few moments for her to fully understand what he was asking, and much to her displeasure she realised she had never truly thought about it. Yes, death was a possibility she had always known that but she had never truly put much thought into it. That had been quite foolish of her, and she cursed herself for her mistake. She dropped the pen onto the table, and her gaze lingered on Lord Yullian.

"I recognise your concern," she admitted and directed her gaze to the Maester. There was a few moments of tense silence before she commanded, "Bring his grace and my Uncle to this room. Tell them it is urgent."

She watched as the Maester bowed and hurried from the room, before she redirected her gaze towards Lord Yullian. The man was loyal she would give him that and possessed a foolish kind of courage but she did not trust him with her lands. He would gamble the Bloodlands fortune all away. But she knew that if she did not grant him something he would stray away from her, so she cleared her throat and began to speak.

"Lord Yullian, you have been the most loyal of my banner men and I have not forgotten it. Nor will I." There was a moment of silence before she continued, staring at the man who had a permanent smile on his face, though he looked rather abashed now, "However, as it turns out, I have a relative who has a. . . somewhat distant claim to my lands and title. And I would like for him to succeed me. I will grant you the two years worth of income from Lord Edwin and Lord Willem's castles if I shall die and I have no doubt that my successor shall further reward you."

He nodded, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide, "Thank you for your generosity, my lady."

"You are dismissed," she replied, and picked up her pen to continue writing. It was only a short while later that they came into the room.

She looked at the Maester, her uncle and Robb with a feeling of certainty flushing through her veins. She let out a breath and glanced down at the blank paper, before slowly beginning to write, and saying what she wrote as she did so.

"I, Lady Everra Legrath of the Bloodlands, Wardness of the Blood, do wish that if I shall die without issue, my half brother Jon Snow shall succeed me as Lord Jon Legrath of the Bloodlands and Warden of the Blood. I also dictate that my body shall be burned and my ashes scattered by the lavender tree. Lord Yullian Maery shall receive two years of income from the deceased Lord Edwin and Lord Willem Gilbert's castles as reward for his services." She signed her will and handed it over to Robb, who signed it and then her uncle who signed it as well.

"I thank you both for your co-operation," she told them, and when her eyes connected with her uncle's she knew what she had to do next. Robb seemed to get the hint as well and quickly left the room without a word, the Maester at his heels.

"You have to stay if I die," she told him, her eyes boring into his, "He's going to need all the help he can get."

Her uncle regarded her with an expression of bemusement, "You're asking me to stay in the very place where my sister was raped and driven to suicide so that I can help your bastard brother—"

"I am asking you to stay so that you can help her son," Everra interrupted, her eyes as cold as Northern Winters, "If you knew and loved my mother as much as you say, you should know that this would be what she would have wanted."

He regarded her closely before letting out a bitter laugh and telling her, "I was wrong you know? You are your father's daughter but some of my sister lingers within you as well. Though you hide it very well."

Everra's smile was deadly. "I do have a reputation to maintain."

"A reputation of being a horrible person?" he uncle asked, rising from his chair, "Because don't worry, that still hasn't changed."

The words no longer stung her deep down.

* * *

Robb and Everra were not surprised to find that Selyse Baratheon wrote back far faster than she did the last time, and were even more unsurprised to find that she had agreed to the terms, all of them. Shireen Baratheon was now on her way to Winterfell.

Robb read the letter to the council during a meeting, and she watched as their faces relaxed with relief, the taunt lines slowly disappearing. She caught Lady Catelyn's eye for a moment, before the older woman looked away.

"Lord Parquello, Lord Alexius I think it is most wise if you go to Dragonstone with your ships and summon the remaining ones that are still in Essos. If you could send word for them to start sailing today, it would be most appreciated."

Everra watched as her uncle nod before glancing back at Robb, who had turned to look at his mother, an uncomfortable look appearing on his face.

"Mother you shall go back to Winterfell to be with Bran, Arya and Rickon and Shireen and I am sending a host of men with you that will take all of you away in case we lose."

Everra watched as Catelyn Stark shook her head and began to protest, "I am going with you, Robb, wherever you go, Sansa needs me."

There was some truth to that, and as Everra watched Robb she realised why he had chosen to do this now, in front of everyone; he thought she would go easier. She watched as lines of frustration appeared on Robb's face, and how a defeated look appeared in his eyes.

"Fine," he allowed, "But you stay wherever it is instructed of you and you will leave if we lose and travel to Winterfell."

Catelyn Stark nodded, relief flooding through her features.

Everra watched as Robb's face hardened once more, and the mask he wore— his King face— appeared.

"We have one major dilemma when attacking King's Landing," Robb said, rubbing his hands together,

Everra had told him of the battle of Blackwater with Stannis a few nights ago, when they had began to strategise together.

"Wildfire."

* * *

It was late at night and Robb and Everra were still in the council room, pouring over details over the map. Robb glanced at Everra, who was biting down on her bottom lip in thought. Something within him stirred at the sight, as though a monster inside of him was slowly awakening. He rubbed at his eyes, exhausted, yet determined to figure out a plan of attack.

"Maybe we should tell Tyrion to convince them not to use wildfire," he murmured, twirling a landmark in between his fingers, exhaustion making his limbs feel heavy.

She let out a small breath at his words, as though she were amused. She glanced at him, her green eyes looking warmer than usual in the candle light. "If he does that they will be on to him," she muttered back, and then directed her gaze back at the map of Kings Landing. Another, smaller map lay close to her, the map that Varys gave her.

Robb observed her carefully, taking notice of the curve of her upper lip, the longness of her lashes, the way her dark eyebrows arched and the lump he felt in his chest all of a sudden was uncomfortably big. She dragged one finger down from the bottom of the map to somewhere in the middle, and drummed her finger down against that one spot.

"What is it?" he asked, moving closer to her.

She frowned, a crease appearing in the space between her eyes as she concentrated, "If we attack by the mud gate, which is where the gate is closest to the water, they will have all of their men focused there. All of their archers, all of their warriors, everything." Robb nodded at her words, waiting for her to continue, "They wouldn't notice if someone went and opened a secret passage for a host of us to come in from behind."

"But which secret passage," Robb asked, "And who would open it? Tyrion can not randomly disappear during the battle, it would be far too suspicious."

She dragged the smaller map up next to the one of Kings Lading and pointed towards one of the secret passages. "This one enables us to both enter and leave the RedKeep. Most of the guards will be by the Mud Gate and the few guards that stay close to the RedKeep we kill. Then we figure out a signal something that will alert our fleet to begin firing the catapults."

"That's a gamble," Robb pointed out, "We may be killing some of our own men."

She turned to look at him, and told him, "You sent two thousand men to their graves, knowing full well they had no chance of surviving. At least now this host will have a chance. A good one."

"And if they set fire to the Wildfire ship?" Robb asked, "Then our fleet will be destroyed and thousands of our men will perish."

She frowned and stayed silent before Robb leaned over the map as well, tracing Blackwater on the map. He was frustrated as well as he stared down at the map, before it hit him.

"Everra," he said, gasping, "If the Lannisters could send out empty ships filled with wildfire, why can't we? The battle lines will be separated into ten lines with 20 or so ships in each line. If we do indeed send a small host in a surprise attack of perhaps five to ten thousand soldiers we will not need all of our ships. The front lines of our fleet could be empty and the rest will be behind it, therefore—"

"Our men will not be butchered," she finished, her voice filled with relief.

They looked at each other then, and suddenly the words slipped out of his mouth, the words that had whispered in the back of his mind for months now.

"I love you," he blurted out, watching as she froze.

He suddenly felt light, like a leaf blowing in the wind, as though the words— or what the words meant— had been weighing him down without him even realising it.

"I love you," he repeated, their eyes locked into a gaze.

There was a few moments of silence, and with each passing moment of her not saying anything he slowly began to regret saying it. _By the gods,_ he thought, _now I've made a mess of everything._ He opened his mouth to say something, may be even apologise before she stepped forward, grabbed a hold of his face and kissed him full on the mouth.

He stood there, stunned and unresponsive for a few moments before he gradually began to move his lips against hers. _I love you_ he thought, wanting to whisper it into her skin, into her hair, _I love you._ She pulled away from him, though they were still incredibly close, their noses almost touching. Her eyes were surprisingly tender as they gazed into his own. She leaned her forehead closer to his and he did the same, her hands lowering to his chest as she squeezed his shoulders.

He was the one who kissed her this time, and he whispered " _I love you"_ against her lips, He could feel her lips begin to pull into a small, rare smile and he pulled away from her again, all of his fear of her rejection fading into something like joy. He felt drunk as he stared at her, and ridiculously fearless as he noticed the warmness in her eyes. He kissed her again, harder this time around, and sunk his hands into her hair.

 _How could you ever ask me to marry someone else?_ he thought, as their mouths moved together. _How could you ever ask me to let you go?_ They pulled away from each other at the same time and she stepped away from him, though she grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him with her. It was a painfully slow walk to her chambers, and he was thankful that it was too late at night for anyone to be about. He didn't think he would be able to let go of her hand. They commanded Greywind and Andromache to keep watch as they entered her chambers before gently shutting the door behind them.

Her hands were slow and soft as they unlaced his doublet before pulling it down his shoulders. It was different than before. Before they were both eager to undress the other, desperate for their skin to touch each other. This was different. This was both of them taking their time undressing the other, savouring the moment, for they both knew that they could die very soon and even if they didn't, they would both have to marry others.

"I love you," he whispered, as he unlaced the back of her dress, and pressed a soft kiss against the back of her shoulder. She turned around in his arms once he had finished and kissed him, her dress pooling down to the ground, leaving her in her small clothes. She tugged him towards the bed gently, and showed him what she couldn't say.

* * *

Everra lay there staring at the canopy, Robb having fallen asleep long before. She was tired, that was undeniable but for some reason sleep would not come. So she had laid there for hours, listening to the sound of Robb breathing beside her, keeping still when he wrapped an arm around her waist in his sleep, and pulled her closer. _I love you._

It had been many years since someone had said that to her. She had known that Daavos was in love with her but he had never said it to her before. Their relationship had never been that of the romantic kind anyway, and she had never loved him. Cared for him? Yes. She had even grieved for him when he died, but she had't loved him. She cast a glance towards Robb, her eyes lingering on his lips before flickering over his face. She took careful notice of his lips and the curls that brushed against his forehead and the beard that was slowly beginning to grow. Her heart clenched at the sight and she glanced away from him.

 _I love you._

She felt something for him, that she could not deny, even to herself. She felt something strong whenever he kissed her and she had felt something when he had told her he loved her. Something very much like happiness. Everra closed her eyes tightly and was disturbed to find the image of her father appearing in her mind. He had damaged her beyond repair, and ruined her for anything that was involved with love. She didn't know _how_ to love because of him and she still didn't. Her heart was too damaged to ever be capable of it, it was too broken— too fragmented. She remembered Robb's words from long ago, _Are you doing this because you want me or because you want someone to warm your bed?_ Everra knew the answer now and it caused both terror and something else to stir within her. She sighed softly and turned to look at him and knew in that moment that while her heart couldn't love him, the rest of her did. Her body loved his touch, her hands loved the feeling of his curls under her grip, her lips craved his own.

Maybe she did love him, she allowed, but now was not the time to find out.

(She hoped she one day found the courage to find out)

* * *

They tell the lords of the plan the very next day, and decide that Lord Parquello and Lord Alexius are most definitely leaving, as majority of the ships are theirs and that Prince Oberyn should go with them as well. That had been Robb's idea.

Everra said goodbye to her uncle under a cloudy sky, with her heart as hard as a stone in her chest. Her uncle had been the only family she had once, and he had turned her away for something she could not control. He didn't deserve her guilt. He didn't deserve anything from her.

So that's why she was surprised when he pressed a kiss to her cheek and murmured into her ear, "You are my sister's child as well, Everra. I have not forgotten, nor will I ever." He moved away from her and then went into his palanquin. Alexius gives her another kiss on the lips before she can move away and sets off with a wink in her direction.

Leaving Oberyn to stand there, staring at her. She could count on one hand the amount of times she had a conversation alone with Oberyn and yet she is surprised deep down when she realises that she doesn't want him to die. Out of many people she know's, and men she could have married, he is one of the more tolerable ones and won't try to control her.

"Farewell, Prince Oberyn," she told him, offering her his hand. He took it without hesitation, and told her, "I hope you survive."

Everra didn't answer, and instead watched him leave in silence, standing there next to a tearful Ellaria.

* * *

They leave for Kings Landing when they receive word from Dragon Stone and when Everra leaves her home with Robb and Jon by her side she wondered if she would ever see it again. The castle had been a place of horror for her, but it was home.

It would always be home.

 **A/N Hello everyone! Sorry for this chapter being so late, but it was a bitch to write. Literally. Out of all the chapters in this story this one was the hardest that I can remember writing. Don't know why. Thank you all for your support along this journey of our's, I hope you will stay with me for the remaining two chapters. Hoped you all enjoyed this! Tell me your thoughts! Thanks for everything!**

 **Until next time**

 **Fionakevin073**


	42. Chapter 39 : The Courage of Stars

**A/N Double chapter update! Hope you guys enjoy this! This chapter is kind of short. . . sorry about that. But the next chapter will be super duper long if my plans are right!**

Chapter 39

It had been close to a month since they left RedRun and they had stopped to camp. Everra had appointed a day and night group of archers to keep watch on all sides of the encampment to keep an eye for ravens, in case someone was sending word to Kings Landing of their movements. The closer they get to Kings Landing, the more she feels strangely at ease. She always gets this way before battle, her blood grows cold and her heartbeat gets slower until she is on the battlefield and everything is rapidly pumping and she is full of energy.

She let out a sigh and turned to the entrance of her tent where Jon had just entered and welcomed him in, "Jon," she said, gesturing towards a chair, indicating for him to sit down.

He did so, eyeing her curiously, his familiar brown eyes slightly tired. It was late at night she knew and she knew that after Jon left Robb would come. The thought made her heart clench, in a good way but she brushed that aside and stared into her brothers eyes.

"I find it only fair to tell you that I have appointed you as my successor," she said, watching as he began to blink rapidly in surprise, his mouth opening to protest, "You will be legitimised as Jon Legrath so that my name can continue if I shall die. I know that you always wanted to be Jon Stark but this was the second best thing I could manage—"

"What?" Jon asked, his voice but a mere whisper, "You're not serious, are you?"

Everra raised an eyebrow at him. "Do I strike you as someone who would joke about something like this?"

Jon gulped at that, his eyes wide with shock before he brushed his hand over his face.

"My— our uncle has agreed to say and help you for a short while if I die, so do not worry about that—"

"Your not going to die Everra," Jon protested, his cheeks flushing, "Stop saying that."

Everra blinked. "Everyone can die in battle," she pointed out, "You could die— hells we both could die and we could lose this battle— lose this war. Someone who says that they will not die— or that they have no chance of dying in battle is a liar and an idiot. Don't be an idiot."

Jon rolled his eyes at that, before placing his hands on the table, "Everra I can not take your lands, I am a bastard—"

"Indeed you are until you are legitimised and therefore no longer a bastard under the eyes of god and the law—"

"I have no relation to your father—"

"No, no you don't," Everra agreed, drumming her fingers against the table, "But Lady Stark will never allow you to be legitimised as a Stark, that puts you before her own true born sons in the line of succession. I can't legitimise you with our mother's maiden name because that means nothing in Westeros so that leaves my father's name. As long as my name continues—" she cut herself off, and frowned at him, "Unless you don't want to be legitimised. . ." the thought had never occurred to her.

"It's not that," Jon said tiredly, "It's just that I'm not exactly _qualified_ to be a lord am I?"

"You'll learn," she told him, "You will. Same as I did and every other Lord or Lady who has ever lived."

"Thank you," Jon whispered, and he rose from his chair to walk over towards her. She rose as well but before she could act he hugged her tightly. Everra's limbs hung at her sides awkwardly before she hesitantly returned the embrace, though she was still stiff in his arms. "Thank you my sister."

Everra gulped uneasily, "You're my brother."

He pulled away from her, his cheeks flushed red and walked out of the tent, leaving Everra alone. But not for long. Surely enough, just as she had predicted, Robb entered the tent and walked over towards her, pressing his mouth to hers. They had done this every night since they had left RedRun but they both knew that their time together would soon come to an end if all went well. She would marry Oberyn, and he Roslin Frey, or any other Frey of his choosing.

"I missed you," he whispered against her neck, where he had begun to press open mouthed kisses against it. Everra raised an eyebrow at him, "I saw you a few hours ago." He grinned at her and something within her chest clenched, before she pulled him up towards her, recapturing his mouth. They stumbled back over to the bed and Everra fell against it, with Robb top of her like a blanket.

They stared at each other for a moment, and his eyes were suddenly afraid as he caressed her cheek, "I don't want to lose you," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead, her chin, her cheeks. "You won't," she whispered back, tugging at his curls and kissing him, silencing his thoughts and his words.

* * *

It was that very next morning when Everra rose before Robb, his arm curled around her waist, pulling her close towards him in their sleep. Her lips twisted up into a small smile before she gently removed herself from him, despite her body's protest to her actions. She watched as he frowned in his sleep, as though he sensed that she had left though he still did not wake. _Let him sleep,_ she thought to herself and reached for her nearby robe, and pulled it on. She nearly stepped on Andromache and Greywind as she moved around the tent, pouring herself a cup of water.

The camp was still dead outside, and first light had not yet even begun. It was quiet, peaceful, until it wasn't. Everra turned around at the icy feeling of someone staring at her, and was somehow not surprised to find the old woman standing there, staring at her.

"What in the seven hells are you doing here?" she hissed, glancing towards Robb's sleeping form.

The old woman waved her hand around as though she were dismissing her concerns, before telling her, "I put an enchantment on the camp, no one can here us." She glanced at Robb meaningfully and croaked out, I see you took my advice."

Everra felt her eyes narrow, and her insides bristled at the implication, "Be quiet," she snapped at her, "Why are you here? You said that you would take care of the red woman—"

"I did," the old woman said defensively, "I brought her into your care—"

"She almost cost me everything—"

"Yes but she didn't, did she? The Stark boy's feelings for you are strong," said the old woman, "You have won and defeated her."

"Roose Bolton is still alive," Everra reminded her, crossing her arms at her chest.

The old woman didn't look concerned at the fact, and instead glanced down at Andromache, and bent over to pet her. "I'll take care of that," she said, and she looked almost sad then, "This will be the last time we ever see of each other."

Everra couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. She had started all of this when she visited her all that time ago, and now she was ending this little partnership they had with each other.

"A shame," she said, and by the older woman's mouth twisted she knew that Everra did not mean it.

There were a few moments of silence before the older woman began to speak, "You know I gave you her," she gestured towards Andromache with her free hand, "So that she could guide you towards your fate. She will continue to do so even though our. . . friendship has now come to an end."

Everra nodded, though suspicion had begun to form inside her. The old woman rose from where she had crouched over and walked towards Everra, who eyed her coldly. She stood there silently, still as a statue as the old woman cupped her cheeks, her skin rough against them.

"You've done well," she told her, her eyes flickering over her features, "Your mother is so proud of you."

Everra felt her heart drop in her chest and she suddenly felt cold.

"Mother—"

The old woman had vanished before she had finished saying the word.

* * *

(Roose Bolton died later on that morning, his horse having thrown him off his saddle at the sight a snake on the road. Her and Robb both witnessed it and the relief she felt was so great she herself nearly fell off her horse. She also felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, as though justice had been served for a murder he would have committed in another lifetime)

* * *

"We have just received word from Dragonstone," Lord Greatjon announced, "The ships have just left since we are less than a weeks ride away from Kings Landing."

"Good," Robb stated, rubbing a hand over his face, "Soon we will be close enough to the Redkeep to hear when the bells are ringing at the sight of the fleet. That will be our cue to wait an hour or so, before going into the secret passage and meeting Lord Tyrion there."

There was a moment of silence before Robb caught the Greatjon and Lord Glover exchanging a glance. Before he could ask what it was, the Greatjon began, "We have received word that Lady Sansa has been made to marry Lord Tyrion."

Robb sat there, gaping at them, his mind incapable of any thoughts.

"What?" Everra demanded, seemingly reading his mind.

"They mean to have the Lannister's control the North if I die. If I die they know that my family will flee and since Sansa is unable to. . ."

"They will control the North," Everra finished, her green eyes hardening.

Robb resisted the urge to slam his hands against the table in anger. "Damn it," he swore loudly, roughly brushing his hand across his face. He could practically feel everyone around him stiffen and he finally snapped, "I need a moment, this council is dismissed."

It was a good thing that the council was close to an end anyway, Robb thought, as everyone began to exit the room. Everra stayed though. And she moved around to him and placed a delicate hand on his cheek, and began to caress it. "Calm down," she said softly, staring into his eyes.

"He was supposed to be on our side," he murmured back, closing his eyes.

"He is," she insisted, "But imagine he try to refuse? They would kill him in an instant. Besides, you can always annul the marriage."

Robb's mouth twisted, and his mouth felt bitter, "If I even get the chance to annul the marriage, presuming I don't die."

Everra's eyes darkened and the grip on his cheek suddenly turned painful, "Be quiet," she snapped, kissing him harshly on the lips. He began to kiss back after a few moments before she pulled away from him, and the anger in them was gone.

"I love you," he told her, and he could feel her tense. He didn't care. Something in her eyes told him she shouldn't.

"I'm not a good person," Everra said quietly, staring into his eyes. Robb opened his mouth to protest before she stopped him, "I'm not. There is no point in denying that." There was a moment of silence before she continued, "but you make me a _better_ person. And that is something no one has ever accomplished since my mother died." She stopped for a moment, before a dark look flashed in her eyes, and she almost looked as though she were angry at herself, " _Why_ do you love me?" she asked quietly.

Robb was flabbergasted for a moment, unable to find words until her hand rested upon his on the table, and he slowly regained his senses. "That's why I love you," he told her, nodding his head towards their hands, "I love you because you reach me when no one else can. I love that most of the time you're always right even if it pisses me off. I love that you're kind to animals and that you still love your mother despite her leaving you. I love you for how you try, and I love that you're the bravest person I've ever met. I love you because you decided to damn it all to hell and join me in this war for a brother you had never even met." He drifted off for a few moments before he lifted her hand to his mouth, and kissed it softly.

"I love you," he whispered, and then it was all kisses and touches and teeth and tongues.

* * *

Everra awoke to Andromache licking her face. She frowned at the wet feeling and shied away from her, and began to frown as she nearly bumped into a sleeping Robb. Andromache was persistent and kept on nudging at her, eager for her to get out of bed.

She swatted her away for a moment and dragged herself out of bed, slipping on some clothes. Robb stirred at her movements and groggily said, "Come back to bed."

Something within her was urging her to follow Andromache, as though a rope had somehow attached them together and was pulling her forward.

"Come with me," she said absently, her eyes trained on Andromache, who was waiting for her by the tent entrance. _She will guide you to your fate._

 _What fate is that?_ she thought to herself and heard Robb move around behind her, and come to her side. "What is it?" he asked, frowning at her, though his eyes were light with curiosity. "I don't know," she admitted and then gestured towards Andromache, "She's desperate for me to come with her." Robb's eyes danced with amusement and he gestured for her to move forward.

She did, and she kept on walking after Andromache, who began to lead them into the small cluster of tree's surrounding the encampment. She was a few paces ahead of Robb, though she could still hear him walking around behind her. She kept her eyes on Andromache, who was moving forward without hesitation, her sleek body moving without effort. Something was tugging her towards gods know what, and then Andromache stopped in a small clearing, and ran away before Everra could command her to stop.

And then she saw _it._

Everra was enraptured by it's delicate beauty, by the way the soft green of the leaves glistened in the sunlight and how the droplets fell. She took a step forward towards it, her head tilted to the side. She could feel Robb's eyes on her and she glanced back at him, her eyes meeting his.

She looked back at the snow white flowers and took another step forward towards it and just as she raised her hand to touch one of its fragile petals, a loud crunching sound erupted from nearby and she turned towards it, startled. She remembered Melissandre's words now; _And then under a white flower she is gone._

She came face to face with a large, muscular man whom had run out from the tree's and just as she reached for her sword, he lifted his own and plunged it into her stomach before she could blink. _Robb,_ she thought, _get out of here._ He pulled his sword out of her and one of her hands reached up to press against her bleeding stomach. Pain and shock mixed and muddled together as she stood there on shaky legs, and she could hear a muffled, wounded sound from behind her. _Robb,_ she thought dying, _Robb._

* * *

He watched .

The shock hit him.

He could not breathe.

"Everra? " he whispered.

No.

 _No._

No.

Gods no.

Agony ripped through him. A choked, wounded sound escaped his throat.

Hurt I Pain I Misery

Blood pours from her stomach.

Fury boiled in his veins.

He killed the man before he could blink.

He knelt beside her.

Panic I Desperation I Frantic

"Stay with me," he whispered.

She smiled.

Acceptance I Terror I Peace

A hand on his face.

Breathe in.

Inhale.

Breathe Out.

Exhale.

Once.

Twice.

"I love you," she whispered.

That's I The I First I Time I She's I Ever I Said I It

One tear.

Two tears.

Pain I Torment I Anguish

"I can't do this without you."

They are both crying.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"You will."

Belief I Pride I Love

"Don't leave me."

Beg I Plead I Cry

She smiled.

Soft I Bitter I Rare

A caress on his face.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"I won't."

Promise I Wish I Hope

. . .

S h e

S

t

o

p

's

B

r

e

a

t

h

i

n

g

. . .

Shake I Slap I Cry

Once I Twice I Thrice

Why won't she breathe?

. . .

The pain was unbearable.

. . .

Tears streamed down his face.

He lost his father, himself, Theon and now her.

. . .

Time slips by.

Seconds.

Minutes.

Hours.

Torture.

Finally, a hand on his shoulder.

Jon.

He is crying too.

He said something to you.

You do not answer.

( You haven't let go of her hand )

Arms wrapped around your torso.

They began to pull.

Fight I Scream I Scratch

( Let me go before I kill you)

Your bones slacken.

Energy leaving you.

Is this life without

The I Love I Of I Your I Life I

He is still screaming.

But then it falls short.

Echoing around him.

. . .

C

O

M

E

B

A

C

K

T

O

M

E

. . .

(She won't)

* * *

 _Saturn by Sleeping At Last_

 _You showed me_

 _the courage of stars,_

 _before you left._

 _How light, carries_

 _on, endlessly, even after death._

 _With shortness of breathe,_

 _you explained the infinite._

 _How rare and beautiful it is to even exist._

 _I couldn't help but ask_

 _for you to say it all again._

 _I tried to write it down_

 _but I could never find a pen._

 _I'd give anything to hear_

 _You say it one more time,_

 _that the universe was made_

 _just to be seen by my eyes._

 _I couldn't help but ask_

 _For you to say it all again._

 _I tried to write it down_

 _But I could never find a pen._

 _I'd give anything to hear_

 _You say it one more time,_

 _That the universe was made_

 _Just to be seen by my eyes._

 _With shortness of breath, I'll explain the infinite_

 _How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist._

 **A/N . . . . I miss her too. But this was the plan I had from the very beginning guys, from the moment I decided to continue the story past the prologue. Don't hate me. In war sometimes the people we love die, and I wanted to accurately represent that.**

 **Until next time,**

 **FionaKevin073**


	43. The Twins

**A/N For the prompt that you asked for long ago, the one which Everra lives and is pregnant with Robb's child and he does not know. Thank you Saint River, for your constant support and imagination. I wanted to have the final chapter prepared before the ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF THIS STORY but I haven't finished it just yet. Sorry about that guys. Thank you all for all of your support and advice and reviews and favourites and follows. I wouldn't have been able to finish this without any of you. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. If you have any more prompts you want me to write, just ask! Thanks so much!**

When the first round of sickness hits her in the early hours of the morning, her blood run's cold and her skin grows as cold as ice. She wretches loudly, her throat burning painfully as tears stream down the side of her face. She looks around the room and wipes at her eyes, though her other hand sneaks down to rub her stomach as she thinks in horror, _Dear gods what have I done?_

Her moon's blood does not come. She waits patiently for one moon, waits for the familiar feeling— _longs_ for it even. During that time she watches Robb grow more and more into a King and feels a warm, fierce feeling in her heart every time she looks at him.

 _What have we done?_ She thinks helplessly.

She looks at her stomach everyday for far too long, watching for any sign that she may be with child. Fear drums through her heart as she does and pleads too all the gods she knows of to _please be wrong. Please._

Eventually she can not help it and runs to Maester Liwin in the dead of the night and he seems too taken aback by her wide eyed disheveled features to protest her entering his chambers.

 _Please,_ she begs for the first time in years, _I need to know._

He fumbles around for a few moments, too gobsmacked to do anything before pulling himself together and warily asking her questions. When she answers no to the questions where she should have said yes and said yes to others she should have said no, he looks at her and Everra can see the pity in his eyes even in the darkness.

It makes her want to be sick.

 _Help me get rid of it,_ she begs, grasping onto his hands and feeling as though she were a child once more, pleading with her mother, _I can't do this._

He gives her the tea and she bolts from the room to her chambers, her heart beating like a drum _doom boom doom boom._

She warms the tea by the fire and sits in her chair, trying to keep warm. She stirs the tea for a long time, taking in its dark liquid that could rid her of the very thing she feared most. She grasps onto it tightly, as if it were her lifeline and takes in its scent as she stares into the fire, the flames warming her face.

She thinks of Robb and his blue eyes that have both gazed upon her with lust and tenderness, with hatred and love and feels her heart tighten in her chest. She thinks of Jon and his miserable years at Winterfell, thinks of his brown eyes so like their mothers and winces. She thinks of Catelyn Stark and her coldness towards a motherless child and feels a chill overcome her as she wonders whether or not Robb's wife will treat their child the same. She feels anger boil in her stomach at the thought and she genuinely laughs for the first time in a long time and rubs her stomach.

"You're a fighter aren't you?" she whispers.

She can sit there and list the reasons why she should end this but she doesn't. She stands from her chair and pours the tea into the fire and feels small droplets burn her skin lightly. Everra laughs once more, though this time it is more broken and sad.

* * *

She thinks of telling him the truth during their meetings both with others and without. Thinks of telling him in between the discussions they share, the arguments they have, thinks of telling him just to spite him in her crueler moments and just to be happy in her better ones.

But she doesn't.

When they reach Kings Landing her stomach has begun to swell slightly, though it is barely noticeable and her morning sickness has ended for the most part but she hides it well. She lays there for hours before the final battle and fear pounds through her veins. Not for herself but for—

She still can't bare to say it a loud. She can't.

When they win, Kings Landing is in flames and the world is in chaos but Everra is alive and well but she searches for auburn hair and blue eyes and nearly cries in relief when her eyes land on him.

She looks at him, her eyes filled with _something_ and he must understand because the same look is in his eyes as well.

 _We won._

He smiles at her though blood and grime stains his face.

Later on that evening he enters her chambers late into the night even though the celebrations are still raging on. She has been waiting for him for hours as well, having left the festivities hours beforehand.

"I noticed you weren't drinking," he comments, hugging her from behind, his arm around her stomach.

 _Thud thud thud_ goes her heart as he does and she wonders whether or not he can notice.

He kisses her shoulder and slowly goes higher in higher until he's reached the top of her neck before turning her around gently. She lifts her hand to his cheek and gently rubs her thumb against it, secretly enjoying the feeling of his skin beneath her own.

He kisses her fully on the mouth. And his kisses are joyful and happy as they grow more and more passionate, as his hands find themselves knotted in her hair and as she kisses him back.

"I love you," he says as he pulls away, _"I love you."_

Everra kisses him in response.

When they finish she is lying on her stomach, naked though a sheet covers the lower half of her body. Robb is tracing her back with his fingers and it sends goosebumps all across her body. She feels peaceful, content even as lies there and for a brief moment she wishes that they never had to leave the room. That time could simply stop there but she knows it won't. She knows this will be the last time.

"Marry me," he begs, lying next to her on his stomach.

Everra does not look at him for a second before her eyes find his once more, "You are to marry the Frey girl—"

"I don't want to marry the Frey girl," he told her, sitting up, "I want to marry _you."_

Everra's heart is heavy in her chest as she responds, "You can't. I won't be responsible for people calling you a traitor and a oathbreaker."

"I don't care—"

"Well you should," she snaps at him sharply.

"I love you," he tells her helplessly, "Does that mean nothing?"

Everra does not answer.

* * *

The next day she gathers what is left of her men and tells them that they are leaving in four days time. She will not have her child in this city. She will not.

When she tells him the news she see's the hurt in his blue eyes, can feel it radiating off of him and she feels tempted to comfort him. To tell him the truth, to be married and be done with it. To be called Lady Stark and a Queen. But she knows she can not, so she closes her mouth and forces the words down her throat.

Jon looks between them helplessly and it is in that moment that she realises that he will have to chose. Even the Lords look at him curiously and Jon does not meet either of their eyes.

Robb does not come see her once.

She tells herself she does not care, that it was better that he did not but—

But, indeed.

On the day she rides home and is at the gates at Kings Landing she kneels in front of Robb and says, "I hope you may forgive me, my king, for my early travel home. I wish you happiness with your future queen."

She can see him shutting his feet, can hear the low heavy breath he lets out at her words. She glances upwards to see him staring at her face, hurt lingering in his eyes.

"There is nothing to forgive," he tells her, "We will all be going home soon."

She nods at him and rises before looking at the other Lords and Lady's who are looking at her with blank expressions. She stops before Lord Tyrion and says, "I don't believe I ever apologised for your brother."

(Jaime Lannister died the moment the battle was won, as a vengeful Lord Karstark ran him through with his sword)

The imp shrugs at her, though she can see the undeniable lines of grief on his face, "I'll survive."

"That you will, Lord of Casterly Rock."

He smiles at that slightly and glances up to look at his wife, Sansa. The young girl does not resemble the girl she saw when she was last in Kings Landing but she is still beautiful yet changed from her experiences.

She shares a look with Catelyn and merely nods to the older woman, whom returns it. Unlike their first meeting this interaction is filled with more. . . familiarity. They dug their graves together numerous times in the name of her son.

She then turns on her heel and walks towards her horse. Everra is slightly surprised to see Jon standing there, waiting to help her onto her horse.

When she reaches him he gently places his hands on her hips as he helps her onto the horse. Ghost and Andromache sit together both alert.

She lets out a breath and thanks him quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. She holds onto her reigns and looks forward to the last of her surviving men.

She waits for the gates to open for the long journey home and is suddenly distracted from her thoughts by the sound of another horse stopping beside hers.

Everra glances over and blinks in surprise.

"Jon?" she asks.

His brown eyes look at her nervously, slightly unsure.

"Everra," he returns.

That is really all that needs to be said between them.

And then the gate slowly opens and they move forward but Everra does not look back.

(Even though she wants too, just to see him for what might be the last time)

* * *

When they arrive at RedRun a few weeks later, all the muscles in her body ache. Master Liwin rushes towards her and the moment her feet hit the ground she feels lightheaded.

Jon rushes towards her and wraps an arm around her waist and she leans into his warm, muscular arms that—

 _No._

She tells herself harshly and forces herself to stand upright, disentangling herself from Jon's arms.

She looks at her home and feels for the first time since her childhood that she is actually _at home._ As though this place was finally more than a reminder of her demons and the life she could have had if the world had been kinder place to them all.

"We're home," she whispers, folding her arms in front of her.

Her stomach nearly flutters in response and Jon looks at her weirdly when she smiles.

Her pregnancy is easier than she thought it would be, physically anyway. She hears the rumours and the whispers behind her back and makes it a point to punish the first person she actually hears talking about her.

"If anyone breathe's a word of this child beyond the bloodlands or whom they think the father is I will cut out their tongue and feed it too Andromache." All the people in the hall do not meet her eyes as she finishes, all except Jon, whom eyes her growing stomach with a lingering look of suspicion and curiosity.

She casts a glance at the man doubled over on the floor in pain and tells him, "Perhaps you can spread _that_ information around."

* * *

Oberyn Martell visits her before he finally returns to Dorne and he looks unusually _pale_ from the trip from Kings Landing.

(Daenerys Targaryen took the throne a week after she left Kings Landing and they all seemed confused as to which Kingdom the Bloodlands belong too. _Both_ , Everra wrote back to her when the letter came, _the Bloodlands are a part of both._ He looks at her stomach in slight surprise but Everra can see the lingering amusement in his brown eyes.

"You look. . . _different,_ " he tells her before surprisingly wrapping her in a hug. Everra is frozen for a few moments before gingerly raising her hands to his back.

"My betrothed," he comments, placing a hand on her stomach, "Is he or she healthy?"

Everra stiffens slightly, her eyes becoming guarded once more, "As healthy as can be according to the Maester."

They then look at each other and it suddenly strikes Everra as to how strange their situation is.

Later on that evening they take a walk around the Lavender tree, Andromache and Ghost following behind them. They have barely left her side since she began to show.

"I can't marry you," she tells him firmly, disentangling her arm from his.

His eyes meet hers and for a brief moment he looks disappointed at her words.

"I don't mind you know," he tells her gently, "I have plenty of bastards of my own."

She bristles at the word and snaps, "They are _not_ bastards. They are _mine."_

"They?" he asks curiously, quirking an eyebrow at her.

Everra can feel her face flush slightly and nods.

Oberyn lets out a loud laugh and says, "Let us hope they don't give you trouble like the last pair of twins born in a great house."

Everra's lips twitch upwards slightly at his words and rolls her eyes.

* * *

It is about a moon after she returns home when late at night she feels it.

She wakes with a start, terror pounding through her veins as her hands cusp her stomach and she pants loudly.

The feeling is uncomfortable yet slightly ticklish and she lets out a small sound of surprise as it continues on for a while. Andromache is lying next to her and lifts her head to gaze at her but quickly falls back to sleep once she realises nothing is wrong.

Everra sits in the darkness, a smile forming on her face as she looks at her stomach.

"I love you," she whispers, for no one but herself to hear.

* * *

Everra becomes bedridden once she hits 7 and a half moons, much to her displeasure. Maester Liwin said it would be better if she did, safer for the babes if she stayed in bed for the rest of her pregnancy. She could barely argue with him when he put it like that but Everra still felt agonisingly bored just laying there all the time. Jon brought her books and company ever morning and evening but that was of little comfort to her. Oberyn visited her quite often and for long periods of time though a lot of the time it was simply spent in silence.

"Have you thought of any names?" Jon asks her one day.

Everra squints at him through her sleepy eyes but manages to say through a yawn, "Yes, I have."

Jon raises an eye brow at her, waiting for an answer.

"Are you not going to tell me?" he asks her, slightly incredulous.

Everra shook her head at him and replied, "Yes."

Jon frowns at her but his eyes are dancing with amusement.

"You expect me to wait another moon or so?"

Everra's mouth curls slightly at the ends and she tells him, "I have to wait nine moons to find out the sex of my children."

Jon stays quiet after that.

* * *

When her water breaks she is surprisingly calm. She wakes to a cool pool of water in between her legs in the middle of the night and she immediately knows what it is.

She places her hands on her stomach and takes a few deep breathes and manages to raise her voice loud enough to attract the guards attention.

Maester Liwin, Jon and Oberyn all gather inside her chambers and Jon and Oberyn take a spot on either side of her. She glances towards Oberyn and is inwardly surprised at the thankfulness she feels to have him there with her. He has grown into her good. . . companion, almost like Daavos had been all that time ago.

The pain that rushes through her body is unlike anything she has felt before and she squeezes tightly onto either of her hands and ignores the words of the midwives telling her to keep calm.

It takes hours of sweat, blood and small yells of pain but in the end it is all worth it.

One babe leaves her but the next is already on its way out so she does not have the time to take the babe into her arms. With another loud exhale the final babe exits her and she slumps back onto the bed, exhausted and drained.

She can see out of the corner of her eye, can see the Maester wrap cloths around each of the babes and Everra manages to force herself into a sitting position and beckons him towards her. Jon and Oberyn cast her looks but they are full of joy from Jon and Oberyn. . . she does not know.

"One girl and one boy," the Maester tells her and gently places both of the babes into her arms.

Everra had feared for this moment, had feared that she would look down on her children and see only their father and with a sight of relief she see's herself in them as well.

Her daughter is red faced and screaming and she coos at her softly but looks at her less red faced son whom is quieter than his twin sister.

"Hi," she whispers and her heart is so full of joy she can not even breathe properly for a moment.

She can feel Jon gazing down at his niece and nephew and Oberyn staring down at what could have been his children and she feels content.

"What are their names?" Jon asks her quietly.

"Annabelle," she says, never looking away from her children, "And Trystan."

"Thank you," both Jon and Oberyn say at once but Everra does not look at them, still drawn to the two precious lives she had just brought into the world.

* * *

She is in her children's chambers, watching them sleep when Jon comes to get her. It has been a week since their birth and she has nearly recovered.

She recognises the look on his face, the one of underlying anger and desperation. She's sights softly and rises from her chair, casting the twins one more glance before leaving the room.

She heads to the great hall and looks upon her Lords with a well concealed mask.

(She has not forgotten how to play the game and she never will)

"You asked for me?" she says, clasping her hands together in front of her body.

"I am glad you are well, my lady," Lord Yullian starts, looking quite uncomfortable, "We are all very happy for the healthy birth of your children. However, there is the— uh— the. . . question as to how they will be raised."

Everra tilted her head slightly, yet allowed him to continue.

"Your children were born out of wedlock and seeing as they are not. . . seeing as they are not your betrothed's the only conclusion is that they will take on the Blood surname an be raised as bastards, high born bastards at that."

Everra merely continued to look at him, her expression still unreadable. A few long moments passed with uncomfortable silence before a Lord asked her, "My lady, you must soon wed so that you will have highborn sons and daughters—"

"Must I?" she interjected cooly, watching as he stops mid sentence, his neck flushing.

Her gaze swept over them cooly as she watches them shift uncomfortably.

"I have no intention of marrying Oberyn Martell," she announced, watching their mouths open in surprise, "I have no intention of marrying at all, actually. I find the restraints of marriage far too. . . _confining._ I have produced two children both of which will bare the name Legrath and not Blood, regardless of what you all think. My son, Trystan, will inherit my titles and land and his sister, Annabelle, some of my wealth. They will be treated as any other high born, is that understood?"

"My lady by the laws of the land, any child born out of wedlock is a bastard—"

"If I hear anyone call either of my children that name again I will end their lives before they can even blink."

They all grew pale at that, swallowing uncomfortably.

"Now as for the law," she stated, her eyes scanning all of their faces once more, "I will merely ask for a legitimisation from the queen. As a matter of fact, I sent a raven a few days ago, knowing that in the future this little snag would be an issue."

She glanced over at Jon, whose eyebrows were raised at her in surprise.

"As for the matter of whom the father is," she started, watching as they all eyed her curiously, "That is none of your business. None. He could Jaime Lannister or Oberyn Martell for all any of you know."

She turned her gaze back to Lord Yullian and said calmly, "Does that address all of your concerns?"

They nodded slowly, their gazes fixed on the ground.

"Good," she told them and turned on her heel to exit the hall.

"Was that wise?" Jon asked her quietly, catching up to her in a few quick strides.

Everra glanced at him, her green eyes slightly narrowed.

"I didn't know you sent a letter to the queen," he said, easily keeping up with her strides.

"I didn't," she replied flippantly, "But they don't know that."

She sends the raven later on in the night, watching its dark figure in the darkness.

She gets a reply a few days later and her children are given the name Legrath in the eyes of the law as well as her own.

 _It's none of my business,_ the dragon queen had written to her, _so I won't tell him._

(Another weight on her shoulders disappeared)

* * *

Her children grow up.

She tries the best she can, truly she does. She worries in the late hours of the night, thinking that she is both a leader and a mother first and a warrior second but the ghosts of her parents still linger in her dreams and she decides that she will teach her children that there is more to life than just surviving, that actually living is important too.

Her children are both the same and different in multiple ways but they are inseparable nonetheless.

Annabelle is more outspoken, more rash and hot headed than her brother but she is also fiercely protective of those she loves and intelligent. Trystan is quieter, quicker to thinking before acting and is wise beyond his years. They complete each other as though they were each other's missing pieces.

It worries Everra at first, she remembers all too well the golden twins that produced a false bloodline but her children are different than them. Annabelle is beautiful like Cersei but where Cersei used it to her advantage Annabelle merely accepts it with an air of indifference. Where Jaime was overwhelmingly arrogant of his skills, Trystan recognises the deadliness of arrogance in one's weapons and regards every man as his equal in the field.

 _Lord or commoner_ , he told her one day, _they still have the ability to kill you do they not?_

Annabelle learns how to fight as well, though not as extensively as Everra did. She still teases her brother of the times she used to beat him when they were years younger and Everra and Jon watch them with mild amusement.

Everra knew that they would one day ask her questions of their father, of why some people still whispered that they were unworthy to bare the name Legrath but she is still taken aback when they do so.

She looked at them closely, being careful to conceal her thoughts. She raised her children to be as perceptive as herself.

"Who is he, mother?" Trystan asked, his eyes hopeful.

The twins have just hit eleven and though they asked her when they were younger and did not understand, they haven't asked her for years.

Everra sighed softly before gesturing for them to take a seat.

"We have the right to know," Annabelle told her and though the words should have sounded accusing, coming out of her daughters mouth they were not.

She stared at them for a long time and for a moment she nearly tells them. She nearly told them of their father, of the boy she helped become a King, of the man she helped win the war. She almost told them of how she never let herself fall in love with him but of how he fell in love with her anyway. She nearly told him of his kindness and honour and how she taught him how to survive in a world that had no place for honourable men.

But she doesn't.

"One day," she promised them, "One day."

The words echo in the back of her mind for years to come.

* * *

Jon goes to Winterfell once every three years for a few moons. The children used to plead with him to take them with him but she always said no. They miss him when he goes because not only is he their uncle but he is the closest thing to a father they will ever have.

They also happen to adore Ghost as well but they have always split their affection between Andromache and Ghost, whom shower them with affection as well.

Jon knows not to tell him without asking. When he first returned after his first travel to the north since she birthed the twins he does not meet her eyes for a few days before reluctantly admitting that Queen Roslin gave birth to their first child within the week he arrived in Winterfell.

"Boy or girl?" she asked quietly, gazing out of the window, a breeze filling the room and seeping through their clothes.

"Boy," he admitted, his voice low and his gaze gentle.

Everra determinedly did not look at him, loathing the look in his brown eyes.

"What is his name?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

"Ned," he told her softly, gently grasping her shoulder, "He is a healthy babe and looks like his mother."

That stings more than Everra wants to admit too herself and she nods stiffly, trying to shift out of his grasp. He doesn't let her.

"Let go of me," she snaps at him, trying to pull away. Her heart feels overwhelmingly fragile all of a sudden as it becomes harder and harder for her to breathe.

Jon ignores her and tugs her directly to his chest and wraps his arms around her tightly as she still continues to fight against him, though Jon knew if she really wanted him to let go he would have been thrown over her shoulder by now.

She slumps against his chest, the fight suddenly leaving her as tears stream down her face.

All she can think of is her children, her beautiful babes whom will never know their father.

"Shh," Jon whispers soothingly, dropping to the ground with her still in his arms, "It's okay."

 _No it's not_ Everra thinks, knowing it was true. It wasn't fair to her children and it wasn't fair too him, forcing him to lie to his elder brother.

"He still loves you, you know," he told her after the tears had finished falling. They are still on the cold, stone floor, with Everra's head still buried against his chest.

She froze at his words and swallowed loudly.

"He asked about you," Jon continued on, not having noticed her reaction, "I saw it in his eyes Everra—"

"Don't," she snapped, removing herself from his embrace and stood quickly, swiping at her red-rimmed eyes.

"I don't want to know," she told him and then hurried away before she did something stupid like cry once more.

That had been the first and last time she cried over Robb Stark.

* * *

When her children have nearly come of age and they are to have a joint wedding day (Annabelle to Harold Hardyng's eldest son, the heir to the vale after Robyn Arryn's death and Trystan to the daughter of Loras Tyrell) they come to her and ask if they may travel together throughout Westeros.

Everra eyed them warily, slightly unwilling to let them leave. She had taken them to Dorne with her when they were ten and three for Oberyn's wedding but remembered how her children had been stared at for seconds too long to be considered polite. She remembered the whispers that had spread throughout Dorne, of the cold woman with her two bastard twins.

She is seconds away from telling them they can not go before she realises something. Everra know's that she can not shelter them forever, that she can not keep them within the Bloodlands for the rest of their lives. She knows she would be a hypocrite if she did as by the time she was their age she had been living in Essos longer than she had lived in Westeros.

So with reluctance she agrees to the idea but makes them promise that they will be back a month before their weddings. They agree happily, their eyes shining as they beamed at her.

She smiles at them and is suddenly so overwhelmingly proud of them that she opens her mouth and begins the sentence that they have so longed to hear.

"I promised you both that I would one day tell you the truth about your father—"

"Mother—" Annabelle starts, sending a glance towards Trystan.

Everra continues as though she did not hear them, "I think that today is the —"

"Mother!" they both exclaim and Everra looks at them in surprise.

They both flush under her scrutinising gaze before Trystan speaks, "Mother we decided a long time ago that—"

"We didn't need to know who our father is," Annabelle finishes.

"We thought that if we knew who he was it would somehow. . . _change_ our lives and we thought that—"

"In order for us to prove that we were worthy of your name we needed to know who he was," Annabelle finishes her brothers sentence again.

"You are my children," Everra says, looking at them, "You never needed to be _worthy_ of my name because you are my name. You are my blood and that is all that matters to me. That's all thats ever mattered."

They nod at her words before Annabelle says gently, "We know that now, mother. You've always been enough—"

"Always been more than enough for us," Trystan adds.

"I love the both of you," she says, surprising all of them by saying it.

"We love you too," they say at the same time, blinking in surprise.

She is not the most affectionate mother but she has no doubt in her mind that her children ever doubted her love, even though she did not voice it very often.

Jon walks in on her hugging both of her children close to her chest, gently stroking their hair.

* * *

It is on the seventh month of their travels and the twin's have been in Kings Landing for about a week when a raven from their mother comes.

 _It is the anniversary of the War,_ her scrawl states, though the twins already knew this, _The King is riding south for the celebrations in Kings Landing and he has summoned all of his banner men to come with him. Since the both of you are already there with your Uncle Jon, whom happens to be the Kings brother as well, I would like it if the both of you could represent me in my absence. I will be late too Kings Landing, I'm afraid._

Annabelle and Trystan share a look before Trystan reaches for a piece of parchment to reply to their mother. They could read each other's mind simply by looking at each other, words having lost their purpose for them years before.

They write back to their mother saying that they will represent her in her absence and when they tell Unlce Jon they notice the surprised look in his eyes before he tries to conceal it from them.

They try to ignore their suspicions but—

How can they not?

* * *

When Robb arrives in Kings Landing for the first time in seventeen years a faint sense of nostalgia and familiarity floods through him. The smell of shit makes him want to wince but he manages to control himself as he stares at the large castle. He longs to be back in Winterfell, to surround himself with his children and family but alas as King he must be here.

 _Besides_ , he tells himself, _Jon is here._

He tries to ignore the fluttering in his stomach at the thought of _her_ being there but he quickly shakes the thought from his head, tightening his grip on the reigns.

 _Seventeen years is a long time_ , he tells himself, his heart beginning to beat louder and louder in his ears.

When him and his banner men make their way into the throne room, Grey Wind must sense his nervousness because he walks closely beside him and Robb can hear his heart beat like a drum _boom doom boom doom._ The doors open and they are exposed to the great throne room of Kings Landing. All he can think of is the sight of dead bodies around him and burning Lannister sigils and shouts of _The King in the North!_

"Your grace?" one of his banner men asks and he shakes his head of his thoughts before nodding at him, signalling that he was alright.

He can see Danaerys Targareyn from where he stands and he moves forward, his head held high as he moves. He tries his best not to search for her in the small sea of people clustered around her.

When he reaches the Iron throne he does not kneel in front of her as his banner men do and watches as the sea of people by her kneel for him.

"Your grace," he states, his voice loud and firm.

Daenerys Targareyn is still as beautiful as she was fifteen years ago, with her long silver hair and violet eyes looking at him with a lingering sense of anticipation, as if there is something he does not know.

"Your grace," she returns, standing from her Iron throne and walking down to his level, "It is a pleasure to have you in Kings Landing."

"It is an honour to be here," he replies.

She glances down at Greywind, whom has still not left his side. Her lips quirk up into an amused smile at the sight of him.

"My dragons will like him," she states, rubbing her hand on the top of his head.

"I'm afraid the same can't be said for him," Robb replies truthfully, watching as she slowly retracts her hand.

The Dragon Queen shrugs at his words, her long silver dress shimmering as she does so.

"Rise," she commands softly and Robb can feel his banner men rise behind him and so he commands the same of her subjects and scans the crowd quickly to see whether or not she is—

 _No._

He lets out a tired breath.

 _No._

His eyes glance back at Daenaerys to see her already staring at him with a contemplative look on her youthful face.

"How are your children, your grace?" she asks him.

"Well," he returns, his mind flashing to his children, a sliver warmth warming his heart.

"And your wife?"

The words shouldn't sound accusing but to Robb they do and he feels the urge to defend himself to—

"She is also well, your grace," he replies stiffly, trying to keep his voice even.

They stare at each other for a few silent moments before Robb is distracted by the sound of the doors opening. His heart leaps in his chest as he turns around to face the sound and his nervousness reappears in his stomach.

He takes a few steps in the groups direction and immediately catches sight of Jon, Ghost and Andromache. He quickens his strides and takes note of his brothers unusually pale face before they hug each other tightly.

"Brother," they both say, patting each other on the back.

Ghost barks excitedly and Robb pulls away from Jon to pat him softly on his head. His gaze then turns to Andromache, whom is regarding him with slight suspicion.

"Hey," he says gently, raising his hand, "It's me."

The black panther sniffs his hand and must remember his scent because she rubbed her head against his palm, purring in delight at the attention.

"Your grace—" Jon starts before Robb catches sight of _them._

His heart slows in his chest painfully and he drops his hand to his side as he openly stares at them, shock making him incapable of movement.

"Your grace," they echo, kneeling in front of him, their faces directed towards the floor, "Our mother apologises for her lateness and asks that you accept us in her stead until she arrives."

Robb can not think.

He can not breathe.

"Your. . . your mother?" he asks, his voice undeniably affected. He glances at Jon, whom is looking at him with desperation, his eyes practically screaming at him to _please understand, Robb._

But Robb doesn't understand. He _can't_ understand.

"Lady Everra?" he asks, struggling to keep his composure.

Bile rises in his throat as they nod and he raises a hand to his mouth as he thinks, _she must have married. She must have._

But a voice inside of him argues otherwise.

 _Why didn't you hear about them? Why? The only reason you didn't know is because she didn't want you too. Which means she has something to hide. . .which means that—_

"Look at me," he commands, his heart pounding in his chest.

They both stiffen at his command, before the boy raises his head to stare at him defiantly, just like his mother had done all those years ago.

The boy had dark straight hair that reached the end of his chin, which was clean shaven and smooth. Robb glanced at him thoroughly, trying to convince himself that it wasn't true. The boy had a long face, just like his father and had features strikingly close to that of a Stark, except for his eyes. His green eyes that were so identical to his mothers that Robb felt as though he were staring into hers.

He let out a breath and asked him, "How old are you?"

"My sister and I recently turned ten and six, your grace," he responds, his gaze aloof.

 _They are older than my own,_ he thinks, a flash of ice shooting through him.

He then turns towards the boy's sister and takes note of her long, raven locks that were slightly more curlier than her mothers. Her locks were pinned back at the side but they still managed to tumble down to her waist. Her face was still directed downwards and so Robb asked gently, "May I please see your face, my lady?"

She reluctantly raises her head to stare at him directly in the eyes and Robb's throat runs dry as he takes in just how much she looks like her mother. Her lips were the same shade and size as her mothers, as was her nose but her eyes erased any doubt from Robb.

Her eyes were like an endless sea that were identical too Robb's own.

 **A/N PM me if any of you want more prompts of your choosing. Hope you liked this!**


	44. Chapter 40 : A Time For Wolves

**A/N Hello again everyone. . . Okay, so I figure it's only fair if I address the very obvious issue/discussion everyone had about last chapter; Everra dying. Yikes, it's still kinda hard for me to accept but she is dead. Some of you expressed confusion as to what happened, so here is a little recap. Last chapter, Tyrion and Sansa got married, Roose Bolton died, the old woman visited Everra one last time, and Everra died in front of Robb. Now for understandable reasons, many people expressed shock, dismay and surprise by this and some were unhappy. That's understandable, and if I were in your position I would undoubtedly feel the same way. But for me, when I decided to write this story, I wanted it to be very in the 'game of thrones universe'. Some of you may say I managed it well, others of you may say I did it poorly, I don't know.**

 **But essentially what I'm trying to say was that I wanted this story to be as ruthless and as bloodthirsty as the source it came from. Everra dying was how I wanted to 'accomplish' that. Because bare in mind Everra was not a good person. Sure, she had many, many reasons to be the way she was but that doesn't mean that it excuses her actions. Anyway, I wanted to portray war in a realistic manner, and I hope I accomplished that. And GUYS OMG THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER OF THIS STORY! Like thank you all so much for all of your support! Also. . . double update! See ya at the end!**

 **(And also, I decided a while ago that if you guys wanted one-shots of the characters in this story, such as a modern AU or a different scenario with the same characters then I would upload it. I recently uploaded one such one shot request from Saint River and would just like to clarify that IT IS NOT a part of the actual Blood Must Have Blood plot. That was just a different scenario one shot that was an idea of a reader. If any of you want to send me some ideas you have, feel free to do so!)**

Chapter 40

They said it was a bad idea.

Building a pyre. They said that they should do it after they won the battle, in Kings Landing. In that rats nest they call the capital in the South. Robb could smell the shit from miles away, and they were still a good two days ride from the capital. They weren't even in view of Kings Landing, and they had a constant patrol around the camp, archers at the ready and soldiers blowing through the trees of the forest looking for scouts.

 _If I am to die, I am to be burned._

The words were clear in Robb's mind and were a constant echo. It was that very afternoon of the morning that—

 _No,_ he thought. _No._

Clouds had gathered in the sky, as though the howls from Andromache and Grey wind were summoning them closer. The black panther had not stopped howling since. . . _it_ had happened. Grey wind had joined her in her howls of agony, and now the wolf and the panther could not stop howling. Ghost simply whimpered by Jon's side, matching his brother's bewildered and wounded expression. Jon looked as though he could not believe it. As though it were impossible that she was de— _gone._ Robb couldn't blame him. He couldn't believe it either. Despite him being there, watching her dy— _leaving._

 _I love you too._

The words curled in his stomach, extending up to his heart and wrapping around it and pulling. Pulling his heart lower and lower until Robb felt as though it were no longer there. They were building the pyre. (At the look on Robb's face his banner men— the few that had come with him along with the near ten thousand men— had quickly agreed without question). Robb caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror and stood there, staring at himself. He was still the same as he had been this morning, curled up in her bed, eager for her to come back. His curls were still matted to his head, his jaw was still sharp, his lips were still the usual same of pink but his eyes. His eyes were empty. Like all the life had been sucked out of them. He supposed in some way it had, but he chose not to dwell on that.

 _Sansa. Father. Arya. Mother. Jon. Bran. Rickon. Everra. Uncle Benjen. Winterfell._ He closed his eyes tightly and let out a breath, his shoulders tensing. It was at that moment his mother entered the room, her eyes filled with caution, as though he were a wild animal ready to pounce (he supposed he was in a sense; when they tore them away from _her_ it took three men to do it, and even then he had managed to scratch them across the face and elbow them multiple times. All while threatening to kill them in his grief. He hadn't apologised) .

"Mother," he said tonelessly, still staring at his face in the mirror. She seemed to sink to the floor as she sighed, her shoulders relaxing and her features smoothing out. "My son," she whispered, moving towards him. She tried to place a hand on his shoulder but he shifted out of the way, not in the mood for her touch. If he hurt her feelings he couldn't tell, but she accepted his distance with a small nod. There were a few moments of silence before she spoke.

"I. . .I know you loved her," his mother said, as though it were some sort of dark secret. He eyed her with an expression of detachment, his features lacking any sort of emotion. "And I know how hard this must be for you—" _Do you?_ he wanted to snap, _did you see father die before your very eyes? Did you feel the blood pouring out of his stomach as you sat there, helpless to do anything? Were you unable to spend the rest of your life with father despite loving him with every fibre of your being?_ He knew what the answer was but he kept his frustrations to himself. "You will survive this," his mother was saying gently, and Robb tried to mask the fact that he had been too consumed with his anger to listen to what she was saying.

"Mother," he said tiredly, once she had finished. He felt oddly strong now, his stance straight and even as he stared at her. He felt uncharacteristically uncaring about her death at the moment, as though Everra's death suddenly meant nothing to him. _Love is weakness,_ she had once told him, _love gets you killed._

 _Did I get you killed?_ his heart whispered, but he pushed the thought away, eager for the emptiness to take over. "I have a battle to prepare for," he said stonily, gazing right into her eyes, watching as she blinked with surprise before it converted into seriousness, "And I cannot think about. . . _surviving_ this. I need to worry about surviving the battle first and making sure we win." He let out a breath, as though saying these words was tiring him and told her, "I have a. . . cremation to attend mother. You should join us and show your respects." He then made his way out of the tent, before being stopped b the sound of his mother's voice.

"You cannot run away from your grief, my beloved son," she said softly, "That is not the way it works. You can't do it."

 _Watch me,_ he thought, stalking away from her.

* * *

It was raining. Or at least, it just began to rain when they set her body on the pyre. Robb could feel Jon's grief crashing against him in waves, and he shot his brother a glance, watching how his dark eyes were clouded in darkness. There was a small container next to Robb, where her ashes were to be put in until they returned to RedRun. _If_ they returned. Jon glanced up at him, and something tightened in Robb's chest. He remembered vaguely how Jon had looked when they found her dead, how tears had streamed down his face. He looked away from Jon to stare at her lifeless body, and found himself moving next to the pyre, so he could stare down at her face.

She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her raven locks were still the same shade of black he had grown to love, her lips were still a light shade of pink and her skin was still healthy looking. It hadn't gone pale with death. Not yet. But her eyes. _Oh how it pained him._ Her eyes were firmly closed, and for a moment it looked as though she were sleeping. He would never see her eyes again, never see those brilliant emerald orbs staring at him coldly in the council room. He would never her eyes soften ever so slightly at him when they were in her chambers, naked, with the sheets stuck on their bodies with sweat. The thought gave him so much sorrow— _too_ much sorrow.

"It's difficult isn't it?" Jon asked. Robb jumped at the sound of his voice so close, and turned to look at him, the spell broken. "Yeah it is," he replied faintly, his eyes slowly drifting back to her. "It's so damn difficult," Jon said angrily. Robb would have comforted his brother if not for the dull, steady ache in his chest that had replaced his heart. "She was a difficult person to love," Robb told him, before he was suddenly interrupted by a guard with a torch. "Your grace," he began, "If you are ready. . ." his voice trailed off nervously as Robb stared at the torch emotionlessly. _Ready?_ he thought, _how can I ever be ready for this? I'll never be ready, and I don't ever want to be._ He took a hold of the burning torch wordlessly, dismissing him with a silent nod. His banner men were standing there, watching but not morning, for what had they to mourn? Robb was the only northman besides from Jon who had lost something when she died, so Robb did not turn to look at them, he looked at her men. At the Unsullied leader, Youngbird, if he remembered correctly, whose face was set in stone. Unsullied follow the one's who own them, he had always known that. Unsullied were loyal to their masters alone. The thought of them leaving because Everra was dead had never occurred to Robb and he cursed himself for thinking it now.

"Robb," Jon said gently, staring at him with those dark eyes, so like their father's, "It's time."

Robb could feel himself nod and grip onto the torch tighter, before slowly, hesitantly, lowering the flame onto the pyre. He took a step back, his arms limp at his sides as his grief spread through his body like a fever. _I love you._ The flames slowly began to spread over the pyre before slowly yet surely engulfing her in the flames. He stood there, close enough to stare at her face for what felt like the longest moments of his life. _You promised you wouldn't leave me._

"Your grace," Jon called out gently, jolting Robb from his reverie, "The council meeting. . ."

"Yes," Robb echoed, dragging his eyes away from the flames, "Yes let us go."

* * *

To say the room was filled with tension would be an understatement. Robb glanced at Jon who he presumed looked as equally haunted as he did. The seconds ticked by as they all sat there, and it took Robb a while to realise that they were waiting for him to speak.

"We have lost two great supporters to our cause in the past few days," Robb said, the words lodged in his throat, "Lord Bolton and Lady Everra shall never be forgotten." Robb's heart twisted painfully. He took a deep breath and continued, "But we must move forward. Kings Landing is only a few days away and we need to be on time with the fleet, otherwise this will all be for nought." Robb looked at Jon for a long while and instantly knew in his heart what he must do next.

"Before we left RedRun Lady Everra informed me of who should succeed her should she die." He paused for a moment, judging the expressions on all of their faces. Jon's eyes had gone wide but other than that he seemed resigned to it, unaffected by the revelation. "As it turns out, her mother had birthed another child during the late King Robert's rebellion and that child lived on in the North as my brother Jon Snow. She asked for me to legitimise him and give him all of her titles." All of their faces were blank for a moment, before they nodded in agreement, silent. Robb rose from his chair and faced his brother, gesturing for him to kneel. He unsheathed his sword and placed it onto Jon's left shoulder.

"I," he began, "Robb Stark, the King in the North hereby grant you the title of Warden of the Blood, Lord of the Bloodlands and being the head of one of the great houses of Westeros. You kneeled before me as Jon Snow, you will now rise as Jon Legrath." He gently pulled his sword away from Jon and sheathed it, the tent eerily silent. It was as if nothing had happened, as though nothing significant had just taken place. It started and then it ended. Nothing more. No toast to celebrate, no men to cheer, no servants to gossip. Jon should not be the Lord of the Bloodlands. Not because Robb didn't think his brother was a capable ruler or because he was jealous but because he was all of those things because Everra had died. His brother had become a Lord because Everra was dead and a part of Robb hated him for it, no matter how much he knew it was unfair to blame Jon.

* * *

When he returned to his tent after that night, Robbw as unsurprised to find his mother already there with fire in her eyes. What he was surprised to see however, was the vase that contained her ashes sealed and placed on—

"How could you not tell me?" his mother asked angrily, her voice raising. Robb dragged his eyes to hers, his movements sluggish and tired. "Mother," he began quietly, eager to simply rest and put this nightmarish day behind him, "I apologise for keeping this a secret—"

"She was the daughter of the woman your father—" she broke off angrily, pacing around a small space, her cheeks flushed with anger. _Lay with. Shamed me for. The women your father loved besides me._ Robb understood why his mother was angry, truly, he did, but he was not to blame for his father's mistakes. It was not his secret to tell.

"It was not my secret to tell mother, and the person whose secret it was is now dead," he told her emotionlessly, "I apologise for hurting you, truly I am sorry but all I want to do now is rest, mother. Please. Be angry with me tomorrow." Her eyes softened then as she looked at him, sorrow and compassion in her eyes.

"Yes my son," she said reluctantly, moving out of the tent, "I will speak with you on the morrow."

Robb counted on it.

* * *

He remembered the conversation him and his mother had. Their goodbye so to speak. She would remain here with a good three hundred soldiers to protect her, and take her to Winterfell if need be. He tried not to think of that possibility. They were solemn and quiet as they said goodbye, but her words were warm as she whispered in his ear, _I love you my son, please be safe._

Kings Landing was just as he had imagined it, it matched all the descriptions he had heard of. They were hiding in the Kingswood, all near seven thousand of them. They had decided that two thousand of them should wait in the Kingswood while the rest hid in the tunnels under Kings Landing, and that the second wave would come when Greywind howled. Robb put Jon in charge of the second wave, though he knew Jon did not like it.

 _I couldn't save her,_ he wanted to say, _but I can try to save you._

As planned, the small opening for the tunnel was there and open for them, and they slowly moved into the dark tunnels under the night sky. There was only one source of light, only one torch in the tunnels, which was held by a small figure.

 _Tyrion,_ he thought, and Greywind bounded off to be closer to the small man.

They talked in small, hushed whispers and it was then that Tyrion—

"And Lady Everra," Tyrion began, the flame lightening his face, "Where is she?"

Robb swallowed the lump in his throat and responded, "She's dead."

Tyrion swore softly in the darkness, the torch shaky in his grasp. "Damn it! I tried to send you a raven about Cersei—"

Robb frowned. "Cersei?" He questioned, "She sent those men to kill her?"

Tyrion shook his head and replied quietly, careful for the men not to hear him in the tunnel, "Cersei acted off her own accord and defied my father's orders. She wanted the both of you dead, thinking it would derail the Northern Campaign and the alliance with the Martells. I caught her sending two sellswords off into the wilderness I didn't know what exactly for but I guessed. The raven did not reach you in time."

"No," Robb said softly, though his voice was as hard as ice, "It didn't."

They were both silent as Robb sunk down onto the floor of the dirty tunnel, his back against the wall. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so now he could make out the shadows of the cramped soldiers stuck in this tunnel. It was truly a miracle that they had all managed to fit in the large tunnel, all five thousand of them, with the other two thousand hiding in the woods of Kings Landing. It was a moment or so later when Tyrion began to speak once more, and it took Robb a moment to realise that he had sat himself beside Robb in the darkness.

"I'm sorry," Tyrion confessed, "She seemed like she was important to you—"

"Thank you," Robb said brusquely, and then paused before asking, "How is my sister?"

"She. . . she is very sad, which is to be expected, Joffery has stopped. . . _harming_ her due to her status as my wife however she is very quiet, very obedient. Your sister is a survivor, your grace. She is very strong, though not in a very obvious way."

"She is a wolf," Robb murmured, his heart heavy in his chest and just as he was about to say something more there was a loud _bang_ from upstairs, and a lot of screaming. Everyone in the tunnel jumped at the sound, the room erupting with the sound of their breathing. "What was that?" He asked Tyrion, his eyes wide as Greywind began to growl beside him.

"That," Tyrion began, "was the sound of someone trying to tear down the mud gate."

Robb let out a breath of relief and stood quickly, unsheathing his sword.

"We must go now," he commanded, his heart pounding in his chest. _Everra,_ he thought, _Father, give me strength._

And then they shuffled off into the hell that was war.

* * *

When they would later speak of that day in Kings Landing, accounts would vary. Many would say that all hope was lost for the invaders until the King in the North's wolf howled and summoned another two thousand men and his brother. Many would say that the Young Wolf ripped out Tywin Lannister's throat with his own teeth, many said that Oberyn Martell killed him for vengeance, which was true.

(The Volantene also died as well, much to Robb's dismay)

The Young Wolf and the Red Viper killed Tywin Lannister together, and when he died, they had won the battle and with that, the war. They had won the war with songs in their hearts and fire in their bellies that still roared continuously even though their enemies had surrendered the moment Tywin Lannister's body hit the floor.

(They also say however, that when the King was reunited with his sister they both crumpled to the floor curled up together and were very, very quiet)

The realm had suffered greatly under the reign of the golden haired lions, now however. Now was a time for wolves.

* * *

It was a few days after the final battle when Robb had Jaime Lannister brought to the Redkeep along with his mother. The reunion between his mother and sister was soul-crushing as they hugged each other tightly in a mess of limbs and tears and whispers and kisses on foreheads and on cheeks on their mother's part. The Kingslayer was covered in a thick layer of dirt, with a bandage on his right hand. Something hot and burning curled in his stomach as he looked at Jaime Lannister, the picture of defeat. He could see Tyrion shuffle on his feet in front of him, from where he stood on the steps leading up to the Iron Throne.

He wanted him dead. He wanted Jaime Lannister dead.

 _Cersei sent those men after you, after the both of you. . . I never thought she would succeed._

Robb's hands curled into fists at his sides as he thought angrily, _let her know how I feel. The Dragon Queen will kill him when she arrives, will probably have him burnt in front of all of Kings Landing._ As if Tyrion Lannister— his good brother now, he realised but that did nothing to lessen his burning desire for vengeance— read his thoughts, he turned to look at him with his mismatched eyes.

"Have Cersei Lannister and Joffery brought to me," he commanded, his voice booming across the silent room. Tyron Lannister moved over to him quickly, his eyes widening. "Your grace we had a deal," he whispered, once he was close enough for only Robb to hear what he was saying, "I spy of you in return for my lands and Tommen and Myrcella and Jaime's safety. You swore you wouldn't kill him." Robb stared at him for a moment, before telling him coldly, "Lord Tyrion I have no plans to sit on the Iron throne. I plan on asking Daenerys Targaryen to return to Westeros. And we both know that she will want vengeance for the man who killed her father. We both know who that is, and we both know that she will most likely have him burnt alive by dragon fire in front of all of Kings Landing."

There was a beat before he continued, "I am going to give you a choice, Lord Tyrion. I will not risk restarting another war by insulting the Dragon Queen and telling her that I want your brother safe. I will not. So here are your options. One, I don't kill Jaime and when Daenerys eventually arrives in Westeros and asks you for him and you refuse you will be killed and lose all of your lands and all remainders of your family will be killed. Two, you give your brother to the Queen and she has him tortured and beaten and burnt alive in a most painful death. Or you allow me to kill your brother here and now, in a quiet, painless death."

There was another beat before Tyrion spoke, "You would be the one to kill him?"

Robb answered without hesitation, "The man who passes the sentence, should swing the sword."

Tyrion's eyes were haunted with grief and guilt as he swayed on his feet. A sliver of sympathy made it's way into Robb's heart and he murmured, "You may say goodbye if you wish." Tyron flinched as though he had slapped him, and he was surprised at how affected he looked, the man who was so clever and witty and drunk most of the time. It would be the most difficult thing he would ever do, Robb knew as he watched Lord Tyrion, it would take a man with a lot of bravery to say goodbye to his brother who he just sentenced to die.

"I will," Lord Tyrion said after a moment, "Thank you."

"Lord Tyrion," Robb called out softly, "You are a brave man."

Tyrion's mouth quirked up in bitter amusement, "You are the first to think so."

Cersei Lannister and Joffery were brought up moments later and he moved forward towards the blonde haired woman, fire singing in his veins as he glared at her.

"You killed her," he told Cersei, his voice as hard as ice yet not loud enough for everyone to hear, only them, "And you tore my heart out of my chest doing so. _You_ took her from me."

He glanced towards Joffrey and Jaime and watched as her lips began to tremble and her eyes grew wide with desperation yet she did not beg. She would not beg.

Anger burned his insides, making him want to rip out her heart and feed it to the crows.

 _Not yet,_ he told himself, _not yet._

"Do you want to know how it felt?" he asked her numbly, his blue eyes detached yet sharp, as though his gaze could pierce through her skin. He gripped the handle of his sword and walked towards Jaime, whom was still kneeling, his eyes resigned as though he already knew his fate.

He tilted his head as he looked at her and could practically feel his mother and Sansa's eyes on his form. He didn't care. By all the gods he did not care for anything accept for the hunger burning through his veins, the savage desire to see all of their heads on spikes.

Her green eyes met his and for a split second Robb almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

He swung his sword with all his might and with one clean stroke, Jaime Lannister's head fell from his body, blood splattering against his bastards son golden hair and on the ground. He could practically feel the sigh of relief that swept through his men as he did but nothing compared to the wounded sound that escaped Cersei's throat. It was as though a thousand knives had just been shoved into her body and Robb felt a small flutter of cruel satisfaction in his veins.

"It felt like that," he told her, his eyes melting into hers.

"Take them to the Great sept of Baelor," he commanded, his eyes never leaving Cersei Lannister, whom had now curled into a tight ball, the animalistic sound echoing throughout the room.

He turned to Lord Karstark and gestured towards the dismembered head, "Do what you like with that." Robb then turned to Tyrion, who looked sickly and pale and gestured towards the headless corpse, "And you may take his bones back to Casterly Rock." He felt his mother and his sister's eyes on him, and so he turned around to look at him; the former's eyes were stern and the latter's were lifeless, if a bit dazed. Sansa had looked like that since they had won the battle; as if she still believed this was a dream. For a moment, his grief for Everra lessened in place for that of his sister; who had been through _so_ much. His self-loathing was great in that moment, and yet he still found himself walking over to them, though his eyes were placed firmly on Sansa.

He remembered the games they used to play as children. Knights and princesses and great, grand rescues. Robb would always be the knight coming to rescue his younger sister from those who wished to hurt her. The games would always be filled with anticipation; would the prince or knight get there in time? Would he save the princess from harm? They all knew that he always would, back then. Robb had come for her now, same as he always had but he had been too late. The monsters had taken his sister and hurt her. He wondered what she thought of him now.

As if she could read his thoughts, she extended her hand out to him, urging for him to take it so that they could walk together to the Great Sept of Baelor. To the place where their father had died. Where all of their sorrow had begun.

Robb took it without a second thought. When they eventually made it to the Great Sept of Baelor, to the very spot where his father was executed, a large crowd had gathered in front of them, all of them cheering for their heads. _Did they not do the same for my father?_ Robb thought, before quickly pushing the thought out of his mind. Dwelling on thoughts like that would not do him any good, considering. . .

He stared at the former King Joffery, who was on his knee's and crying, his face red with effort. _No one will heed your cries,_ he thought, _no one will try and help you._ He swallowed loudly and removed his arm from Sansa's, raising his hand to silence the crowd.

"Today, two people will be executed. The former Queen Mother, Cersei of House Lannister, found guilty of treason against the crown, adultery, murder and incest. The former King of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the Realm, Joffery Hill. Bastard son of Cersei and Jaime Lannister, guilty of crimes against the crown, treason, murder and tyranny. I, Robb Stark, First of his Name, and the King in the North, hereby sentence them to die."

He heard the sound of a sword unsheathing, and was surprised to find a guard holding onto his father's sword, "Ice". His insides tightened at the sight of the great Valyrian sword and he grabbed a hold of it tightly, it's weight strangely familiar. He was surprised to catch a glimpse of Tyrion Lannister as he moved towards the mother and her son, who were both kneeling on the ground.

"Mercy!" Joffrey begged, "I beg of you!" The crowd roared with displeasure, egging Robb on. Cersei Lannister was silent, as though she were dead already. Robb felt empty, cold. He had dreamnt of this moment, of avenging his father. He had imagined he would feel something, anything, he never expected this voidness in his chest. Joffrey's head was placed down on the wooden block in front of him. Robb paused for a moment before looking at Sansa, whose eyes were stony and calm. They stared at each other for a long moment, before she nodded indirectly, giving her consent.

Robb looked down at Joffery, holding onto Ice's handle tightly. "Any last words?" he asked, his heart beating loudly in his ears. "Rot in hell," the golden haired bastard spat at him, though his eyes were filled with fear. Robb took a deep breath and then slowly lifted his sword and brought it down. Joffery's head was dismembered from his body in one, clean stroke. Cersei quickly followed in a quiet manner, and then his enemies were dead but there was still this hole in his heart, this huge aching gap that he feared would be there until his last day.

He wasn't aware that the crowd had dispersed until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and turned to glance at Sansa, who was staring at him solemnly. He allowed her to tug him around the RedKeep, and before he knew it they were climbing up to the battlements, where heads were stuck on pikes. A lump formed in his throat as they past Joffery and Cersei but surprisingly enough Sansa led him past them, and stopped before a barely recognisable, rotted head.

"Father," he whispered, swallowing uncomfortably. He was barely recognisable, his eyes half plucked out by the crows, his skin rotted to the point of Robb being able to see the bones in his face. He nearly crumbled down onto his knee's at the sight of it, and he barely managed to croak out, "Get him down." His guards quickly hurried about behind him, and Sansa quietly confessed, "They made me watch when he was killed," her voice was so quiet, so _haunted,_ "And then he made look at it the day after."

Robb hugged her tightly as she sobbed, his heart crumbling into nothing.

* * *

It took approximately four days to have all those who betrayed his father killed, and with the few remaining lords and ladies of Kings Landing remaining, Robb knew it was time.

"The last Targaryen," Robb told what remained of his council, "Summon her and offer her the Iron throne. Inform her that we will willingly allow her to come over to Westeros and accept her rule if only she accept the North's indolence."

It took a few months for a reply to come back, and then the rest, as they say, was history.

* * *

It was a strange feeling, Robb felt, watching the silver haired queen walk to her throne. The throne which he currently stood in front of, Greywind at his heels. He watched emotionlessly as her dragons flew around, drawing gasps from the nearby court. He saw Sansa stand closer to their mother out of the corner of his eye, and his banner men reach for their swords from where they stood below him .

"Your grace," he called out, his voice echoing across the silent hall. Her violet eyes met his blue ones in a fierce gaze, The King of Winter and the Mother of Dragons; ice and fire. He made his way down the steps, and his banner men immediately parted so that he could pass through. "Your grace," she returned, her voice as hard as his own. Robb's eyes flickered to the man by her side, and recognised him as Jorah Mormont.

The man was staring at him right in the eye, almost as if he was daring him to try attack them and die for it. Robb had no desire to attack anyone. Had no desire to see anymore blood spilt. And suddenly he was so _tired;_ tired of killing, tired of living, tired of _grieving_ that he almost collapsed. His tiredness must have showed in his eyes because the violet orbs in front of him softened ever so slightly, and a moment of understanding past between them.

"You want your throne," Robb started, his voice hard yet somehow amiable, "I want my home. If you want seven kingdoms so badly, make the Bloodlands a Kingdom." He made sure not to leave any room for argument. She raised a silver eyebrow at him and shot a glance towards Jon, who was staring at them with a emotionless expression, "I understand your baseborn brother has been legitimised as Jon Legrath, heir to his half-sister's lands?" He could practically feel his mother flinch from somewhere around the room.

"Yes," Robb replied without hesitation, his eyes cold as he stared her down. There was a beat before she nodded and held out her hand for him to shake it, "To the King in the North," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Robb took her hand, and did not look away from her eyes— which he wished with all his might were a different colour, the colour of emeralds— and boomed back, "To the Queen in the South."

It was a moment that would last throughout history.

* * *

How Robb managed to stumble his way into his chambers late that night he never figured out, all he knew was that Grey wind played a large part in him managing it in the first place. The moment the door shut behind him he nearly collapsed onto the ground, the weight of the world suddenly crushing down on his shoulders. He stumbled over and had to cling onto the bedpost to keep afloat. He felt so empty, so lifeless. He pressed a hand to his chest to make sure his heart was still beating.

He let out a sigh and collapsed back-first onto the bed, and the fall knocked the breath out of him. He felt so alone, lonelier than he had first felt when they put a crown on his head. He stared across the empty space on the bed and tried to picture her there for a moment. He could feel her warmth next to him, could feel the tresses of her hair brushing against his cheek as he moved closer to her, could picture her green eyes— the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. And eyes he would never see again.

As if to remind himself, he cast a glance at the lidded vase on the other side of the room. All she was was ashes now. And ashes didn't do anything except burn. She was no longer her beautiful, cold, authoritative self, no longer her intelligent, brave and cold self; all she was now was what people found in hearths after the fire had burned out. Suddenly he was so angry at her he nearly began to cry. He wasn't angry at her for dying, that hadn't been her fault, but he was angry at her for making him care; for making him love her. For making him feel as though it would be easier for someone to rip out his heart than endure this pain. _Scratch that,_ Robb thought, _they already did. But my heart is still burning with grief as it beats on the floor, bloody and broken._

"Damn you," he whispered, his words caused his throat to ache from emotion, and his eyes began to sting, "I love you. Come back."

"I'm afraid that isn't possible," an old, unfamiliar voice croaked out from the shadows. Robb jumped off the bed, reaching for his sword an glanced down at Greywind when he hadn't made a sound. His eyes were shut, and he kept on sleeping near the bottom of the bed. "What in the seven hells did you do to him?" he snarled, pointing his sword forward threateningly.

The old woman smiled, and with a wave of her hand candles were suddenly lit, making them more visible. Robb tried very hard to mask his surprise as he stared at the older woman, who looked even older than Old Nan.

"You must be wondering who I am," she murmured, her old voice croaky and worn. Robb lowered his sword every so slightly, but did not answer. "Though I think you have a pretty good guess." Robb felt his anger flare at that and he snapped, "How do you know what I am thinking?"

The old woman laughed at that, her eyes eyeing him with something like respect, "I have many gifts, your grace. That happens to be one of them."

Robb felt his insides drop. "You're the one who told her," he whispered, his eyes widening as his grip on his sword tightened, "You're the one who convinced her to help me, who told her— _everything."_ Robb felt his anger begin to grow inside of him, until it was as tall as the wall and as strong as the winds of winter. "You're the reason why she's dead." It wasn't a question.

The old woman looked momentarily ashamed at the statement, before it vanished completely. "She knew that her dying was a possibility," she replied, averting her eyes from his. Robb felt his jaw lock with rage, and his hands began to shake due to its sheer force. "Except it wasn't a possibility was it?" he questioned angrily, "It was a guarantee. Andromache led her to that gods-forsaken tree. Her own animal—"

"Which she got from me," the old woman interrupted smoothly. Robb gaped at her, cursing detachment to the wind. "Why?" he whispered, "Why would you kill her?"

The old woman looked at him with an expression that said that she sympathised with his loss. "I was given the opportunity to make a choice, your grace. I had the choice to let you die in one. . . _option_ and another option that let you live. There were two different 'prophecies' for each _option._ One where you died, and Lady Everra never existed, and one where she did exist and you lived, but she died. I made a choice—"

"Did you tell her that?" he growled, "Did you tell her that she was without a doubt giving up her life for mine?" his voice had become shaky, his grief breaking cracks in his anger.

She smiled softly at him, revealing a set of yellow teeth. "The moment she decided to come home and fight for you she gave up her life in many ways. She left Essos, which was arguably her home. She gave up her closest confidant for you, and she gave her army to you and. . . herself. She knew that it was a possibility that she would die—"

"Everyone know's that there is a possibility you could die hunting!" he yelled, "and you do it because you know that there is a possibility that you could live. You denied her that choice!" he pointed at her chest roughly, "That is murder not possibility."

"There had to be a balance," the old woman snapped, her voice suddenly hard and strong, "If she chose to side with the Lannisters or kept out of the war, you would have died. She chose not too, so the gods decided that she had to die instead. Hells, there was even a prophecy about her dying."

Robb stood there silently, watching her with detachment. She softened under his gaze as he stepped back and sat on the bed, his sword slipping out of his fingers and falling to the floor with a loud clatter.

"She died for me," he whispered to himself, his guilt and shame and grief making him feel as though he was drowning. He wasn't aware that she had sat beside him until she began to speak.

"I know this may sound strange," she began, "but in many, _many_ ways you saved her." Robb scoffed at that, scowling, "How?" he asked bitterly, glaring at her. The old woman didn't even look as though she heard what he said.

"You saved her from herself," she said softly, as though she were talking to a wild animal, "you changed her in so many ways. Many of which may not have been obvious but they were there. She was her father's daughter before she met you. She killed without mercy and was as cold as ice. A few more years, and she would have been just as cruel as her father, what little of her humanity having died out. You reminded her that there was more to life than that. More to life than just survival, your grace. You made her happier than she had been since she was four. The way's you changed her— the things you gave her may have been small, they have have been just cracks on a rock but they were invaluable, even if she never admitted it to herself. You taught her how to love again, your grace. You were her chance at redemption."

Robb was crying now. Tears streaming down his face quietly, though he was overwhelmed with emotion, so much so he couldn't find the words to speak.

"I loved her," he said faintly, before correcting himself in a harder, stronger voice, "I _love_ her." His grief was so strong— _too_ strong. "And now she's gone and I love her."

"She loved you too," the old woman whispered back and for a moment, just for one small moment it sounded like—

"Everra," he said, alarmed as he turned around to look at the old woman, who had vanished into thin air. _She loved you too._

Robb realised in that moment that he did not only mourn _her._ He mourned the life that they would never have together; he mourned the secrets that she had that he would never know; he mourned the children that they would never have. He wondered if they would have had his or her eyes; if they would have his auburn curls or her raven locks. These were all questions that would always be unanswered. Maybe in another life they could have been together but not in this one.

The thought brought him such sorrow.

* * *

Robb wanted to go home.

It was very simple to him, really. He missed the walls of Winterfell; how they had made him feel safe at all times. He missed the warm stone beneath his fingertips and the hot springs that caused the warmth. He missed his home and wanted to go back, childish as it may seem.

He told the dragon queen that he would be returning home within a fortnight and mustered up the excuse of his upcoming wedding as a reason for him not to stay for her coronation. He gave her a throne, everyone knew this, and she must have known that he could take it away just as easy. Robb imagined that was why she had agreed and he watched as his men and Everra's (Jon's) began to prepare for the long journey home.

There would be two stops on the way back however. One at the Twins to marry his betrothed— Robb usually tried not to think about it— and another to scatter her ashes at her— Jon's home. It was strange to think of Jon as a Legrath, and he knew that it was even harder for Jon to think of it himself. Jon had always wanted to be a Stark and now he was a noble but with a different name and with a different home. Robb would accompany Jon to RedRun and then return to the Twins. He could practically hear Walder Frey grumble about it from all the way in Kings Landing. He would let Everra go, what little of her he had left, and then return to the Twins and pick his bride and try to move on, like his mother said.

The conversation with his mother might not have happened if not for Jon.

It had been a bright, sunny day, a few days before they left for RedRun and Robb had been surprised to find Jon and his mother in the gardens, talking amongst themselves softly, even if they looked a bit awkward. They shot him a look as they moved away from each other, with Jon reaching forward to pat him on the shoulder, his eyes soft with sympathy.

"I'll leave you two alone," he murmured, and removed his hand from Robb's shoulder and walked away. Robb lifted his eyes to look at his mother, the sun catching her hair in the light.

"I'm so proud of you," she murmured, cupping his face in her hands, "My son. My eldest son." Robb's lips turned upward at her words, and he murmured back, "I can't wait to see Bran and Rickon. And Arya as well." His mother smiled back, her blue eyes light, "I can not wait to see them either," she admitted, her smile slowly fading as she looked at him. Robb glanced away from her then, not wanting to have to deal with her pity.

"How are you?" she asked, her voice soft with maternal worry. "I'm fine, mother," Robb told her, his heart stiffening. _I love you too. You saved her in so many ways. You were her last chance at redemption._ Robb flinched away from his mother, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

"I know it may seem like it now," his mother told him gently, "but you will love again. The sun will rise one day and you will have moved on without even realising it." Robb snorted ungracefully and snapped, "How can you say that?" _I loved her. More than I thought I could ever love someone, and you're telling me I have to move on?_

"You are going to be married, my son," mother said, "And soon. Your wound will not have healed just yet, and you will be bitter and wish that your wife was her but she won't be. And one day you will be glad for it."

"Not anytime soon," Robb replied, with more snark than he intended. His mother hugged him in return and Robb crumbled in her arms, a single tear dripping down his face. _I love her and she's gone._

And then later, after the ache in his chest had lessened ever so slightly he pulled away from his mother with a small smile. "What do we do now?" his mother asked, her blue eyes so like his own, so incredibly blue, and yet her eyes were the blue of a bright summer sky, whilst his were the icy pools of Winter.

"Home," he answered, "We go home."

 **A/N I would like to thank all of you so here we go: 06bromleys, 19irene96, Abena762, Alia-Jevs, AlucardY17, Alyssa1312, Amane-Misa16, Amyb11, AnastasiaIlyina, Angelic Reaper13, AnimeNut47, AnimePrincessRach, Anna C. Black-Potter, Anonymous0786, Apparitions, ArchangelFemme, Arianna Le Fay, ArrowTheaQueen, Artemis Prim, AsgardianDragonRider, Ashley MarieD, AsianGamersRule, Beauitful-Phoenix75, Billie Hale Winchester, Blackhooded001, BloodyCherry7, BlueBell phoenix, BrieKayee, BrighterSky14, Calliope's Scribe, Cap's Best Girl, Ceralyn, CharChar93, ChigUnnie, CryingRosex3, CupcakeLoopy, Cypress98, Dahcheetah, Damn Dude, . 1, DarkReaver724, Daughter of Freedom, Davioedah, Dianasaur22,Dragon nail Polish, Droosh, Dusty Reed, Dwiggy, EMILCE-CULLEN-VULTURI, Eriador12345, ExtremelyShyOtaku991, Fanreader1991, Firelady103, FlammableBatman978, Fredegar, Gabicha, Hadian, Happy-Valley, Haruhi330, , HeuyFreeman, I'm a fire truck, ImaBiteChu, ImagineDaydreams, , Isabela Xavier, ItsukaAkitoLuna, JamalG, Jessboobear, JesssiexDKuroNeko, Jon978892580, Kaerninas, Katiekatexoxo, KeniaHeras, Kiur, KristeenW, Kylria, LSher, Lady-Kiki-Theevilmstermind, Lady kata, LadyXMurderxGates, Leandraviv, leon Krugar, LightFun27, LiliAnn Jackson, LittleMeep, Lizz Black-Malfoy, LoriJane1995, Loverofcolours, madelinexoxo, mage of beginning, mari wollsch, MariosK, Marishkatheunderdog, merlynnpendragon, mickey mireane, mikki88, menthe faye, miss leigh storie, mister polar, moondownx, mrnoobishdude, , nanda gopal, needtoread10, nerja19, nicarmstrong, nicolep1928, nosoulsammy, nuray14, nutty shaggy, orion1327, pandagirl323, peacefulwatchersoul, petalclaw's patricebethporter, phantom- of- light, philoutubes, princessrhaenyra, ptlacky, ptitcoeur 69, publicly, puppylove10121, R.E.W. 4 , raptorqween250, raynieTaco, Red Moon 123, Nedspiderking, RI0tmak3r, roalf, rocknrollsor3z, ronnie22211, roryjones, rose nieman-black-targaryen, royalsweekend, ryuzaki 007, Sachan22, sammayday89, scarletraven3, scarymary54, sea16, seafeudjagger, seekerstf4, seven deadly, sincerlyanopportunist, skydivers, smorze101, soft sheep, something90, stark-ingmad, starkwolf95, starrside, storm sky, sweetsnow01, tanicullen, targaryenatheart, teemitchie, tesainge, that sweet bit, the jaded siren, the realtayler13, the zombie wolf, the bestabe16, thornewood, tusia0095, vexingvipervixen, victoriaether95, vine shadow, vixter9339, whitecherryblossom99, xo bella italiana ox, xxoriginaldirewolfhybridxx, yellow-phoenix25, yusuke kurosaki, yukki, .panteli. , anniearmitage, anti-social-wolf, antica, avergancefanficreader, blakeho123, bluepanther33158, britishteastorm, catonsullivan, chen12493, chyanne200, ciccia96, claudiacameron, crawler123, crystaltear 21, cumminsail, deadlady47, deadtrooper, digipokemon girl 000, dorodrigo, doc130195, drayna, drxmmergirlx, dutchangel1979, ellycup, estallias, fireystorm, franci92, fulla02, gridlocker, gtbmel, heichou, hrpritsng18, idreamtofu, iitrnr, ilikemyattitude, imjustsayin505, ingisned, jafcbutterfly, jarblatz, jealexandra3892, jean d'arc, jman007, josephy 590, josieposie456, kalika89, katyplops, kawiixkisses, kemo9005, kimber77xo, kimson, knightgorshade, koinzall, kvdsouza, ladymay03, ladyres, littleleanjel, lostfeather1, lousideandersen1991. luvudramione, lyrass zaaabooozaaa, m00nbunnie, miketheklym, mimi0992891, momorocks101ful, mpowers045, nabisoo, nathalie174347, nathaliedew98, nazmataz, nightsinsihadow, okaloosa, osito, patty,clark. 792, peinismo, petru969, pifolo, pointlessjourney, purple sky always, rangu, rayman898, royalteas, runwithcheetah24, rya13, salvatoresister887, sheepinkgirl, shereelousie60, sharsnix, skycord1990, slowbrow0609, soup4mepapi, spicyrash, 13, swathy, szirra, taytay4282, thearaouk, thecatclouder, thitbording, tinymurph, trickst3r-97, tyog56, voldyismyfather, whitneygreen48, wierdunusualchick, wildcat717, xLaciex, xxbeautifullyrebelliousxx, xxtoknowhisnamexx, xan-merrick, xchelsmg, .purple. flowersxxx, yyye, zombiexogirl.**

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 **Fionakevin073**


	45. Epilogue

**A/N I'm tearing up. I can't believe this guys, I can't. It's done. Blood Must Have Blood is over. This was my first story ever, and I will never forget it. I will never forget Everra and how difficult she was to write but how I loved her all the same. Thank you to all of you who bothered to read this in the first place, to those who reviewed and favourited and followed. All of you pushed me to finish this story— something I never thought I would be able to do. There are two last things to say now; thank you, my readers, for everything and goodbye to this story, to Robb and Everra and Jon and Catelyn and Andromache. I hope you all enjoy this! I hope some of you follow me to my other Game of Thrones story but if not. . .**

 **Until next time,**

 **Fionakevin073**

* * *

 **Burial**

It's only on the way home does he realise that they are not actually going home. He has a promise to fulfil. But before he does that, there is one last thing he must do.

Jon is getting restless. Her people are getting restless. They need something to do with her ashes. Robb remembers the promise he once made her and he intends to fulfil it. Yet, he is reluctant too. Those ashes in that damned vase are the only thing he has left of her.

They reach RedRun in a month and her people are solemn and quiet. She was by no means a kind leader but she was a good one. They eye Jon suspiciously (he is now the leader of the Bloodlands) but accept him nonetheless.

Robb is both eager and reluctant to leave RedRun. He knows that this may be the last time he is ever there.

He goes to the lavender tree, holding her in his hands— what was left of her in that vase— and strokes it with his thumbs, almost as if it were her hair.

"I love you," he whispers into the lonely night.

A breeze sweeps through him and he know's its time.

He lifts the top of the vase and tips it over and then she leaves him just as quickly as she did the first time.

 _She's dead. Gone._

The pain he feels is unbearable.

 _Please,_ his heart whispers, _come back to me._

* * *

 **Roslin**

When he arrives at the Twins his heart his limp and numb in his chest. He has no desire to be there, no desire to have a wife but he nods his head at their antics and tries to look thankful.

The look on his mothers face tells him he is not succeeding.

He can't find it in him to care.

Walder Frey smirks at him and presents him with a daughter.

His bride to be.

His wife.

She is more beautiful then he thought she would be, with her wide doe like blue eyes and her long light brown hair. She is soft, shy, her cheeks flush a bright red when her eyes meet his and she looks down at the floor, trying not to meet his eyes.

The ache in his chest has never been more strong.

But he smiles at her softly, though he knows it is without warmth and fails to calm her nerves.

When they marry it is as if he is not in his body, as if he is watching from above as he wraps the cloak around her and listens to the cheers. When his lips press onto hers, he does not feel that fire, that passion he was so used to, her lips did not feel right against his. He closed his eyes tightly and even though he knew it was wrong he tried to picture a dead girls face in front of him instead.

When they pull away he can tell from the disappointed look in her eye that she knows.

* * *

 **Grief**

Robb used to lay in bed till the late hours of the night and used to close his eyes and imagine that she was there. That he would open his eyes to see her green ones already open and looking at him. Not with warmth, not with coldness either, but something that told Robb that in her own way, she was happy. Happy to be there with him.

He used to long for her to be there so hard, used to pray to all the gods he knew of, pleading with them, hoping with everything in him that when he opened his eyes she would be there.

It took him many years to finally accept that she would never be there again.

His grief is not short, it is painful in all the ways imaginable, the numbness, the longing, the urge to both cry and scream every time he looked at anything that reminded him of her (it was even more unfortunate that practically everything did).

After so long of feeling as though he was drowning in his grief, as if everything surrounding him was choking him with it, with this eternal sadness, it finally began to become more bearable. The feeling of a thousand knives being thrust into his body replaced with a pounding ache in his heart. A sadness for a future he could never have.

 _Everra,_ his heart seemed to whisper, _I miss you._

* * *

 **Ruling**

He rules as though she is still by side and tries to remember everything she told him a ruler should be. A ruler should be loved- he shows mercy when he can and helps his people in whatever way he thinks best-, respected, -he won a war against four kings, though he earned their respect in the battlefield he knows the throne room is different- he listens to their council but affirms his power over them. A ruler should be feared -he kills those who try to kill him and grants mercy to those he can.

He likes to think she would be proud.

* * *

 **Andromache**

They say that the black panther that was always by Everra's side curled into a ball under the lavender tree and lay there until she died. She did not wake, did not eat, did not drink or even seek shelter.

The great cat simply sat herself under the tree, where her mistress had sat so long ago, curled into herself, and closed her eyes for the rest of time. One day she was there, and the next she wasn't.

* * *

 **Roslin (continued)**

Their relationship is weak and fragile, it consists of the weakest of smiles and moments in the night which Robb wishes he could forget.

He visits her chambers however, he knows he needs an heir but every time he is with her he tries his very best not to call out another name. He did it once and he will never forget the look on this young girls face- his _wife's face._ Though he may not love her he does not want her to be unhappy.

He won't drag her down with him.

The confrontation that finally erupts between them is loud and full of screaming and crying on her part. When she had finally begun to sob, her shoulders shaking, Robb had taken her into his arms and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. 'I love you' she was muttering into his chest. Isn't that enough?

Robb did not answer.

* * *

 **Birth**

When he finds out that she is with child he is. . . shocked. He feels a nervousness inside him which he has not felt it many years. There is relief as well. Him and Roslin had been married for over a year with no child.

She looks up at him nervous but glowing with happiness and Robb can't find it in him to feel otherwise. So he hugs her gently and hears her whisper 'I love you'.

He still does not respond.

The months leading to her birth are stressful and worrying and when the time finally comes he feels so terrified that he can't think of anything else.

It's in that moment that he realises that he does not want Roslin to die.

That he cares for her.

So while he hears her screams and her cries he runs to the Godswood and prays with all his might that both she and the child may live. When his mother finally comes to retrieve him the sun has risen and his cheeks are red from the cold.

He has never felt more nervous or hesitant in his life.

When he walks into the room he is relived at the sight of Roslin laying back, her cheeks read and her face glistening with sweat. She was glowing with happiness as it occurred to Robb that she was holding a baby in her arms.

Their baby.

He walks towards them hesitantly and she smiles up at him, her eyes full of love and whispers as he bends down next to them, "A boy," she whispers "a beautiful baby boy."

Robb looks at her and feels something tugging at his heart, he does not know what, nor does he want to find out but something propels him forward and he presses his lips to hers.

Unlike all the others, he feels something, a gentle tug in his heart, the feeling of a nice warmness filling his chest. It is not as strong or as powerful as what he had with Everra, but it is something.

Something that makes him think that he may fall in love with her one day.

"Thank you," he whispers.

* * *

 **Jon**

He visits Jon as often as he can. Jon has turned into a wise leader of the Bloodlands (Everra had taught him well too).

They grieved together for a while, Jon for his sister and Robb for his. . . . _her._

Jon had looked at Roslin warily when he first met her, a judgemental look in his eye as he looked her up and down but then he had shaken his head and smiled politely at her, kissing her hand.

He never said anything bad about her to Robb.

He marries eventually, to Margaerey Tyrell. Robb was surprised when it occurred but was shocked at how happy they looked together, how content and peaceful.

Robb was jealous of how Jon managed to move on with his life.

But he was happy for them. After all, Jon was his brother.

* * *

 **Sansa**

When Robb first saw Sansa after they had taken Kings Landing she had looked at him, her blue eyes widening slightly and then looked away. There were bruises on her wrists and around her eye and his chest tightened painfully at the sight of her. Gone was the Sansa he once knew.

It was awhile before she turned to look at him again and it was as if she realised that it was really him and she hugged him tightly, sobbing into his chest.

When the people who have hurt her are dead Sansa looks at him determinedly, surprising both him and his mother; she wanted to go with Tyrion to Casterly Rock. More importantly, she wanted to continue on being his wife.

The relationship between the two of them always puzzled Robb but he nodded his consent, knowing that it would make his sister happy.

After everything she had been through, she deserved it.

* * *

 **Arya**

Arya had jumped on him the moment he had arrived at Winterfell, both giggling and sobbing into his shoulder. If there was one thing that had not changed much over the war, it was her. She was still uncontrollable, still rebellious, still _her._

Robb could not begin describe how thankful he was for that.

After a few years she had looked at Robb one day and said, "I'm going to explore the world like Lady Everra did."

Ignoring the pain and surprise in his heart Robb observed her for a few moments and said, "Ask mother first and then I'll tell you my answer."

She left within a month.

* * *

 **Children**

Robb smiles as he hears the sound of his children laughing in the distance, an innocent sound that never failed to warm his heart.

Roslin is standing next to him, watching them as as well, something very similar to tears in her eyes.

Robb reached down hesitantly for her hand, his gloved fingers reaching hers. He smiles softly at her startled expression, her light brown eyes wide. Slowly, her fingers start to slide through his and even though she was not what Robb had wanted-no what he had _needed-_ she had given him his children.

Nothing had ever been more important.

He knows she loves him in a way he could never love her. But in his own way, in a hesitant, thankful way, he loves her in return.

"Look at that," he whispers, "look at our children."

Their children. The eldest with his large brown curls and blue eyes. Ned. His eldest daughter, with her long auburn hair and playful blue eyes. The splitting image of her father, Elayna. His other son, Theo, with his straight brown hair and soft brown eyes, the split image of his mother. Then his last child, a daughter, trying to catch up to her siblings on her little toddler legs, an innocent giggle flying out of her lips, Talia.

Roslin doesn't answer, instead choosing to squeeze his fingers tighter.

* * *

 **Ned**

His eldest child was much like Robb's own father, honourable, serious and protective. He loved so fiercely it sometimes scared Roslin. He was wise and intelligent but was proud occasionally and ignorant. He is his heir.

"What if I am a bad king?" he asked Robb one night.

Robb had looked at him for a moment, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Father?" the boy asked warily.

Robb had smiled at him and said, "I once thought as you do and someone told me something that has stayed with me all throughout my reign. Something which I will now pass on to you. A ruler must be loved, feared and respected. I see it in you now and I believe that one day you will manage to achieve all three."

His son nods at him thoughtfully, though Robb can tell that he did little to ease his fears.

"A true ruler does what needs to be done. They do what is needed of them, not what is wanted."

Ned looks up at him, a smile now on his lips as he hugs his father tightly.

* * *

 **Theo**

His youngest son is like his mother in more ways than one. He is shy, kind, observant and stubborn. Most of the time, his face is stuck in a book or he is out riding on his horse. Robb feels more protective over him than he does with any of his other children. He loves them all equally and just as powerfully but he feels this strange urge to protect his youngest son the most.

Robb worries for when he leaves home and sets out into the world of Westeros. He knows he tries to raise his children realistically, only making promises when he knows he can keep them but he fears that his youngest son may break, may be turned and twisted into a shell of the boy he is now. It is a terrible thing for a father to think but nevertheless, it is the truth.

It's only one day during supper that Robb realises that he may have underestimated his son.

"If it came to sacrificing some innocents to win a war would you do it?" Elayna asked one day.

Robb and Roslin had looked at each other for a moment, startled.

Roslin is about to speak when Robb shoots her a look, asking her to be quiet. She nods hesitantly and watches.

"No," Ned declares, "If you want to be King you should defend your people however you can, if you sacrifice the people you swore to protect then you should not be on the throne."

Theo is looking down at his plate, listening closely, his eyebrows drawn into a frown.

Elayna considers her older brother for a moment before saying, "I think I may agree with you. . . I can't imagine a king doing that to his people, especially the innocents."

Robb is about to speak when Theo's voice declares, "I would."

His siblings stare at him in shock and to be frank, Robb is too. His children are indeed children, the eldest only being twelve and the youngest being two, though she is sleeping at the moment.

Theo's cheeks have begun to warm at the attention on him but he manages to say, "A King sometimes has to sacrifice a few to save the many. I'm only trying to be realistic."

Silence.

Robb learns to never underestimate his children ever again.

* * *

 **Elayna**

His daughter is like his mother in both appearances and actions. She is fiercely protective of her family and is stubborn in her beliefs. She is kind and beautiful, intelligent even, both politically and rationally but her vice is her honour. She clings to it desperately and Robb worries for her because she reminds him of whom he was before the war. Before he realised that no one could be truly honourable in this world, that you had to make decisions that were harsh and sometimes cruel if you truly wanted to be a ruler.

She is strong though, so strong that Robb sometimes thinks that even though Roslin birthed her, she was more like Everra than either of them. But she was happier and more lively and she giggled and laughed and thought of the good in life.

Robb thinks that one day she will grow to be wiser and more cautious and realise that the world could be harsh and cruel. For now, however, he will let her grow on her own, let her experience the world and interpret it as she wishes.

He will love her regardless.

* * *

 **Everra**

When Robb first meets Jon's daughter he is overtaken with emotions. Surprise, shock, love. . . anything imaginable.

He has not seen Jon for a few years now, though they have corresponded through letters. Robb takes no notice of either Jon or Margery and is instead enchanted by the little girl in front of him. With her long black hair and light blue eyes which in a certain light can be mistaken for green, he is certain that he is seeing a younger version of the woman he loved (loves).

He crouches down so he is at her level and asks her softly, "What is your name, little one?"

"Everra," she chirps happily, looking him in the eyes.

Robb can't speak because of the sudden lump in his throat.

* * *

 **Jon (Continued)**

It is later on that night after he meets Jon's daughter that he tells him the whole truth. About Everra, and how she knew about everything, even their father dying and all the death that would come and the old woman and why Everra died. He expects Jon to be angry, and to be surprised, what he does not expect however, is how Jon actually reacts.

"Would it surprise if I said I always knew that Everra knew more than she let on?" Jon asked, his mouth quirking up into a smile. "I think I figured it out long ago but simply pushed it into the back of my mind and forgot about it." Robb stared at him, speechless.

"Are you angry with me?" Robb asked a little while later, "That she died, that you never got to know her as much as you would have liked?"

Jon smiled at him after a moment, though his eyes were wistful and sad as was his smile, "No," he said gently, "I'm not angry with you because it wasn't your fault." There was a moment before he continued, "I would have liked to have known her better, but. . . my family— our brother's and sisters are more that enough for me."

* * *

 **Talia**

Even though Robb has been through this three times already, the terror that had sprung in his heart the first time still makes it reappearance. All he can think is _do not let Roslin die. Do not leave my children motherless. Let my child live._ His children are nervous too and excited.

Robb hears Roslin scream from her chambers and his heart twists in his chest painfully. When his mother comes to get him, his children are fast asleep in their beds and he walks into the room, his legs feeling like rock.

Roslin is red and sweaty though undeniably happy, looking down at the baby in her arms.

Robb feels relief sweep through him and he walks towards them quickly, his excitement growing.

"A girl," Roslin whispers.

She has eyes which are a dark shade of brown and there is a small patch of auburn hair on her head.

Robb's heart is tightening at the sight of her, and he feels this unconditional love bloom in his heart.

"Talia," he whispers, "Her name is Talia."

Roslin looks at him, slightly surprised, either she decided the names of their children, or they decided it together. She can tell however, that this is important to him. She may be their last child.

"Talia," she whispers.

Robb can almost feel _her_ there with them, whispering in his ear, _thank you._

* * *

 **Acceptance**

When Robb finally accepts the fact that she is never coming back, he felt as though he would never be happy ever again.

He realises it one morning after waking in his bed, a few years later. Roslin is pregnant with their second child and it is all he worries about.

Yet, in the deep hours of the night, he allows himself to be selfish. He allows his never ending grief to consume him, he allows himself to wish, to hope that he will wake up and she will be there.

When he wakes the familiar disappointment is there when he realises that she is not. That only an empty place on his bed is where she should be.

Thats when he accepts that she is never going to be there ever again.

He still misses her however, with every part of his being. But the monster that was his grief has now shrunk into a throb in his heart in his most selfish moments, when he wishes that she would be there to advise him, to guide him.

 _I'm sorry,_ his heart whispers, _but I can't spend the rest of my life loving a ghost._

* * *

 **Whispering Wood**

The night before she died, Robb is still laying wide awake, looking down at her in his arms. Her raven hair is spread all over him, her silky strands smooth against his bare chest.

His heart thumps in his chest as he looks at her, her face looking peaceful. He loves her, more than he has ever loved anything in his life.

His mind begins to drift and his eyes close and he dreams.

 _He is in battle, the snow around them staining red by the blood of the fallen soldiers around him._

 _He hears some soldiers cry out as Greywind leaps on top of them. He pulls his sword out of the soldier in front of him and turns, his sword immediately clashing with another._

 _When that soldier fell he became aware of the shouts around him and he was suddenly surrounded by numerous of his soldiers, "Wha-"_

" _The Kingslayer!" One of them yelled._

 _Robb knew he would come for him. Why would he not? If he died, his men returned home. His father died._

 _His heart dropped._

 _It's a while before most of the soldiers are long dead and he is right in the sight of Jaime Lannister and he tightened his grip on his sword as the Kingslayer runs towards him, swinging his sword._

 _Robb can hear his heart beating furiously in his ears, as their swords clash together for the hundredth time. He is pushed backwards and he lands on the ground beneath him with a thump and he look for his sword blindly. He can't die, he won't die, father, mother, Sansa, Arya need him._

 _But he can't find his sword and ay the gods help him he looks upwards and then closes his eyes for a brief moment, preparing himself for his fate. When Jaime lifts his sword in the air and brings it crashing down there is a loud clash as it is suddenly blocked by another's sword._

 _Robb opens his eyes startled, and is bombarded by the sight of a woman in green clothing, with long flowing raven hair standing in front of him. Protecting him._

Robb's eyes open suddenly. Everra has begun to stir in his arms and she looks up at him, her green eyes slightly curious.

"What were you dreaming of?" She whispers softly.

Robb shakes his head and grabs onto one of her hands, kissing it softly. She understands his demons just as he understands hers.

She presses herself forward on his chest and presses her lips to his. The fire immediately consumes them both, the warmth spreading through every inch of their bodies, awakening them.

 _How could he ever need anything else?_ He thought and kissed her harder, flipping them so that he was on top.

By the way she kissed him back, he knew she was thinking the same.

* * *

 **Catelyn**

When his mother dies it is a good twenty years since he married Roslin and though it is hard to say, Robb is surprised she lasted as long as she did.

His mother's driving force since his father died was to make sure her children were safe and happy, secure. Arya is travelling the world, Sansa is with child for the third time and happy too. Bran is where he wants to be and Rickon is off protecting the innocents of Westeros. Robb is. . . happy. He has his children and his wife and there has been peace for a good long while and while he may not feel perfectly content, he is getting there.

Then his mother got sick.

"I'm tired Robb," she whispers to him one day, "I miss your father."

She was in and out of sleep constantly, sometimes not knowing where she was. It broke his heart to see his strong, protective mother so lost.

Robb smiles at her softly and for the first time in years tears appear in his eyes, "I know mother, I miss him too."

She smiles at him, he can tell it takes all her strength to do so and with her last breath she utters, "Forgive me."

 _For what?_ Robb thinks, sadly.

For loving too much.

* * *

 **Epilogue**

When Robb dies he has been King for a good forty years and all his family is by his side.

What finally got him was a bear. One moment Jon, him and his sons were laughing loudly and the next blood was running out of his stomach, pain erupting all over his body.

Once every few years all the remaining Starks would gather together and Robb feels almost lucky to have everyone he loves by his side. His brothers and sisters, his children, his nephews and nieces, his wife.

They shed tears over him and plead for him to fight and that _damn it Robb, we need you. Your children need you._

Robb had simply smiled and said, "No you don't."

A tear slipped from his eye and swam down his cheek as he said, "It's been forty years, let me rest."

Right before he dies, he does it one last time. He closes his eyes and wishes that she was there with him again.

He dies moments later.

When Robb finally comes to his senses, the world is dark, his eyes are closed tightly and he can feel the bed dip beside him, another persons warmth radiating out to him.

His heart begins to beat faster in his chest and a warm smile spreads across his lips. He begins to open his eyes slowly and hopes that she will be there.

Emerald green eyes are the first thing he sees.


	46. The Twins Part 2

**A/N Okay guys, this is part 2 of The Twins, the prompt that was asked for by Saint River. I know this goes against canon but the action at the Wall is not apart of this fic! Sorry!**

 **And also to the Guest who commented last chapter, this whole Twins storyline is a part of a one-shot request that was asked by another author. It is not apart of the actual Blood Must Have Blood Storyline.**

 **If any of you have more ideas for one-shots like these, just send me them and I'll get back to you! Or mention them in your reviews whatever works for you! Thank you all so much!**

The Twins Part 2

It is only her maternal duty that brings her to Kings Landing. Her insides had tightened with guilt at the thought of leaving her children and Jon to Robb's. . . _wrath_ for lack of better term. She let out a shaky breath inside the carriage, and looked down at her gloved palms. Winter was near, the Maester's kept on whispering. The long summer had ended shortly after the birth of the twins and winter had stayed for a while before slowly dissolving into spring. No summer had been as long as the long summer, and the supposed 'long night' had never come.

Everra wrinkled her nose at the smell of shit coming from the sewers of Kings Landing, before her features quickly smoothened into one of stone. _Gods,_ she thought, _I hope I leave Kings Landing with my head and my children. My gods what if he tried to take them to the North?_ Everra nearly shuddered at the thought but calmed herself, her back straightening like an arrow. _Robb wouldn't do that,_ she told herself, _he would never kill me. Or harm me. Never._

The carriage came to a stop. True to her word, Everra arrived approximately two days after the King had done so, and the moment she exited the carriage she immediately noticed the dire wolf banners and dragon banners amongst a field of southern and northern banners. She swallowed loudly, and was escorted to the great hall by a frightened servant, who looked at her nervously, as though she were about to rip out his tongue with her bare palms. She raised a cool eyebrow at him, as though daring him to say something. He quickly looked forward, his cheeks flushed red.

It took a few moments for all of her belongings and guards to be arranged in a manner the Queen had ordered and then before she knew it she was entering the great hall of the red keep, her eyes calm and aloof as she stared straight ahead. She noticed the Queen first, who sat on the Iron Throne with a regal expression. She was every bit a queen.

"Your grace," she said, curtsying appropriately. The Queen rose from her throne and walked down the steps to her before quickly saying, "Please, my lady, that is not necessary." She linked her arm with Everra's and began to walk, despite Everra's clear disregard for physical contact. "You and I have much to discuss," Daenerys continued, and Everra was sure to hide her misgivings. _What do we need to talk about?_ She was already in trouble with one royal, the last thing she needed was for the Dragon Queen to want her dead as well. As if she read her mind, Daenerys removed her arm from her's and gestured forward, "I will leave you with your children."

She could barely muster a polite thank you before she caught eye of her children near the side of the room. They were looking at her with a happy expression on their faces but with a. . .cool look in their eye. _Where is Robb?_ she wondered, _and Jon?_ A pit began to form in her gut, but she ignored it and made her way to her children, ignoring the stares of the court and sending a cold glare back at people who stared too long. _Where is Oberyn?_ she thought, _he would make this slightly better._ Of the many, many rumours of who the father of her children could be, the second most occurring possibility was that Oberyn was their father. She was quick to stop the rumours of course— with a little killing, and a little threatening— but she always subtly encouraged those with Oberyn. He knew them for one, he always sent them presents on their namedays, they were there for his wedding, hells, they even called him Uncle Oberyn when they were children. He was even there for their birth. If Oberyn ever realised what she was doing, he never mentioned it.

"Mother," Annabelle and Trystan said in unison. Her heart clenched slightly as she looked at them, and she resisted the urge to hug them both tightly, knowing that in a sea of rats any sign of weakness would be pounced upon. "Children," she replied, though she tried to soften her eyes in a way that could convey her pleasure at seeing them. They nodded indiscreetly, and her heart warmed ever-so-slightly.

"Jon," she said, changing the subject, "Where is he?"

At that, the both of them stilled and something entered their eyes as Trystan answered shortly, "With the King."

Everra's heart dropped to her stomach. "Oh," she responded softly, "I assume their meeting must be important for him not to be here."

"Yes," Annabelle said dryly, "I'm sure it is." Everra resisted the urge to scowl at her daughter, and shot her son a look when she saw his lips twitch. "The both of you are very funny," she said warningly, raising an eyebrow at them. She shot a glance backwards and saw that the court had already commenced. "I assume you both know where my chambers are?"

They nodded and soon enough they were entering her chambers— the one's she had stayed in when she was last here. Her insides tightened when she realised, and she steadied herself against the bedpost. The Twins were silent as they all stood there, the air heavy between them.

"You both have every right to be angry with me," she began, turning to face them, retracting her hand from the bedpost. She paused for a moment, and Trystan took it as an opportunity to speak, "Mother is. . .is he our father? Annabelle—" he stopped, and looked at his sister helplessly, "She has his eyes," he said gently, as though it were some horrible truth.

"Glad to know your power of observation has not been diminished, dear brother," Annabelle said snippily, shooting him a look which he returned. "Annabelle," Everra said sternly, staring her down before sighing. "Trystan now is not the time for such questions," she told him, glancing around the large room, "not here, not now. Kings Landing is a field of secrets and this one is simply waiting to be plucked out of the field. We are never alone here, my son. That is a lesson to the both of you," she said, glancing meaningfully between them, "Keep your secrets close to your chest my children, for people in this world, especially in this city will surely use them against you."

They nodded, both of them wearing a serious expression.

"The King shall wish to speak with me soon I expect," is all she said, "You both should make yourselves scarce. How long until your departure from Kings Landing?"

"A fortnight at the most," Trystan replied quietly, glancing at Annabelle whose face was contorted into one of thought. Everra nodded, and folded her arms in front of her body before walking up to them, and placing a hand on either of their cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "Neither of you deserve this suspicion that hangs over the both of you because of my choices. I apologise for that, truly."

"It's not your fault mother," Annabelle interjected, her blue eyes fierce and for a moment she looked so much like Robb Everra nearly retracted her hand. She swallowed loudly, and tried to ignore the lump in her throat, "You have given us so much. A good home, a good childhood, a good uncle. . .decent people to wed"

Everra scoffed and quipped back, "I should hope that the both of you find that the people you are wedding are more than simply decent." They both chuckled at that quietly, and Everra retracted her hands from their cheeks. "Go," she said, her voice now reverting back to her usual tone. They nodded and quickly left the room, leaving her alone with only her memories for company.

Jon had mentioned him whenever he came back from his travels North, but after she had cried over him once he always kept the details brief. She had heard of Robb's children, the eldest Ned and then Elayna and then Theo and then Talia. When she had heard of Talia's birth— heard what her name was, she had spent all night trying to write a letter of thanks, but somehow the words wouldn't come.

That had been the only time she had tried to write him in all these years.

He had never even tried.

Everra jumped at the sound of a knock on the door, and ignoring the beating of her heart, she called out for whoever it was to open the door. She was greeted by the sight of a nervous looking servant— with the dragon sigil embroidered on the side of his doublet. She stood there, and masked her surprise and relief at the sight of the sigil.

"Yes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and moved towards the doorframe.

"The Queen wishes to speak with you in the council room, my lady," the servant stammered, his face red, "I hope this is not a poor time?"

"No," She snapped coldly, "It is not."

He led her to the council room with an awkward silence hanging over them, and he hurriedly left the room when she was standing before the Queen.

"You're making friends," the Queen commented lightly, eyeing her with her violet eyes.

Everra watched her closely, her face calm and smooth as she regarded her. "I try, your grace, but it seems the people in your city do not seem to like me."

"A shame," the Queen sighed, her silver hair shifting as she took a sip of her wine, "For what I wished to offer you required you to stay here in, 'my city'."

Everra merely raised an eyebrow at her.

The Queen's eyes were filled with a cool curiosity as she regarded Everra from head to toe, almost as if she was admiring her.

"I want you to become my hand."

Both of Everra's eyebrow's rose high on her head.

"I was aware that you already have a hand, your grace," Everra replied, her green eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yes but Ser Jorah would make a far better Lord Commander of the City Watch than a hand of the Queen and everyone is aware of it," Daenaerys snapped back, placing her glass on the table. "Your grace," Everra began calmly, her voice thinly laced with curiosity, "May I ask why?"

"Why I want you to be my hand?" The Queen asked, her words a question in itself before her forehead smoothed out. "I want you to be my hand Lady Everra because I think you are perhaps one of the smartest people in the whole of Kings Landing if not all the kingdoms. You helped King Robb win the war and everyone know's it while simultaneously making my rise to the throne without any blood spilt. It takes a lot of intelligence, and a lot of courage to accomplish something as such." There was a moment before she added, "You have also managed to ally yourself closely with two of the most distant kingdoms. You and the King of Winter share a brother," there was a pause as their eyes met across the table, and Everra's insides tightened as she remembered that the Queen most likely put two and two together since she kept her secret from Robb all of these years, "And you seem to be quite close with Oberyn Martell."

Everra was silent as she waited for her to finish.

"So, Lady Everra," The Queen finished, "Do you accept my offer?"

* * *

Everra came face to face with Jon when she returned to her chambers after her meeting with the Queen. She had been taken off guard by the queen's request and was further more so when she opened her door to find Jon sitting on a chair in her chambers.

"Jon," she called out loudly, stalking up towards him once she noticed the large bruise on the side of his face. "Everra," he returned, his dark eyes solemn as he rose from the chair. She halted in her steps at the expression on his face, and asked him quietly, "Did he. . .?" She didn't have to specify who 'he' was.

"Yes," Jon replied instantly, his voice even, "Though I suppose it is well deserved." The pit that had begun to grow in Everra's stomach was now more evident than ever. Still, she kept her composure. "Where is he?" she questioned, clasping her hands together in front of her.

"In his solar, fuming," Jon answered, wincing as he washed a hand over his face. Everra tried her best not to gulp. "Did you. . . did you confirm it?" she asked shakily, before clearing her throat. "I didn't have to," Jon snapped, his dark eyes then instantly softening with guilt, "He wishes to speak—"

"With me," Everra interrupted, but before she left she paused by the doorway and murmured loud enough for him to hear, "Thank you, Jon. For everything." _For keeping this a secret from your other family. For being a father figure to my children. For loving them like they were your own. For being my brother when I had done nothing to deserve it._

"Your welcome," he murmured back, long after she had left.

* * *

It was only standing in front of him that she realised how much she had truly. . . missed him. He had aged obviously, there was a small scar on the edge of his chin that had not been there before, his auburn hair had a few strands of grey, though they were every few and he had a light stubble. But his eyes, his eye's were still the same shade of blue as they had always been, but they were now dark with anger as he glared at her from across the otherwise empty room, except for furniture.

"Your grace," she said uneasily, curtsying, "It is a pleasure to see you after such a long—"

"Stop," he commanded tonelessly, his chest beginning to heave ever-so-slightly.

She did and was careful to hide her anxiety as she regarded him with observant eyes.

"Robb—"

"How could you?" he grounded out, his blue eyes flaring. His jaw locked with anger as he stared at her, his eyes boring into her. "How—"he broke off angrily, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Robb," she trailed off helplessly, her heart clenching in her chest, 'I'm sorry," she whispered, moving forward towards him slowly, as though he were a wild animal ready to pounce. "Robb, you need to calm down and listen to me—"

"Calm down?" he snarled at her, "How in the bloody hell am I meant to calm down?" He whirled around so that his back was to her, his shoulders tightening as anger pounded through his veins. Everra stopped in her steps for a moment, taking in the familiar sight of his curls resting on his head, and before she could stop herself she lay a hand on his shoulder gently, coaxing him out of his anger, "Robb please—"

She was slammed back into a wall with a sudden jolt with Robb's arms on either side of her. "Stop telling me to calm down!" he roared in her face, his blue eyes wild with fury. Everra stared at him silently, watching as his jaw locked and his nose flared. Their faces were so close together that she could feel his breath on her face as he breathed. She watched with an unusual tenderness in her eyes as the fury began to slowly melt off his face, and his arms began to sag next to he read as the anger drained out of him, leaving only a raw hurt in his eyes that tugged at her heart. "I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning his forehead against her's, "I shouldn't have—"

"Shh shh," she murmured, leaning her face closer into his so that their noses were almost touching, and her arms seemed to have a mind of their own as they planted her hands on his shoulders, "I'm sorry too." He let out a soft breath and murmured back, his eyes filled with hurt, "How. . how could you do that to me? Your children. . . our children. . . I never even knew. . . How did I not know?. . . Sansa. . .Tyrion. . . Jon. . ."

Her heart clenched as she gripped his shoulder's tightly under her grasp and yet she did not say anything. Their lips were so close together, and the longing that she had buried beneath so deeply beneath her skin began clawing at the surface and—

He tore away from her as if he had burned her, and Everra was startled at the fleeting guilt she felt when she remembered that Robb was married to a sweet girl, if what Jon said was true. _She loves him,_ Jon had told her once, and then he had paused before telling her reluctantly, _I think he loves her too, in his own way._ She stood there against the wall for a moment, but before she could say anything Robb asked, "Do they know?"

He didn't have to clarify who they were.

"Did you ever tell them?" He continued on, not waiting for her to answer.

It took her a moment to find the words to respond. "They asked me when they were younger but I always promised that I would tell them when they were older." She paused before she continued, her heart heavy in her chest, "And then the day came where I tried to tell them a few months ago before they left home for their travels but. . ." her heart clenched painfully as she looked at him, and something was suddenly lodged in her throat she finished, "But they didn't want to know."

He flinched as though she had slapped him. "When?" he asked suddenly, turning around to face her, though he was looking at anything but her. She waited for him to clarify, "When did you become with child?"

"A moon or two before the battle of Kings Landing, maybe a little longer," she answered honestly. His eyes fluttered up to meet hers then, "You knew you were pregnant with my child when I begged you to marry me and you still said no?" he asked, his eyes widening ever so slightly. Everra did not hesitate when she answered, "Yes." He laughed bitterly at that, and Everra stood there watching him helplessly.

"This. . . this changes everything," he eventually said, once his laughter had run dry. Everra raised her eyebrow at him slightly, and spoke softly, "I know this must be hard for you to grasp but—"

"I don't mean that, Everra," Robb interrupted impatiently, "I mean that—that Trystan and Annabelle," their names sounded as though they struggled to come out of his mouth, "Are older than my children with Roslin, which means that by the law's of the land they are a part of the line of succession. Trystan should be the one to succeed me, not Ned." His face was pained as he said it, his eyes wide with shock. Everra stared at him in horror, resisting the urge to gape at him, 'What?" she said incredulously, "Trystan is not going to be your heir of anything," she snapped, "No one know's who my children's father is—"

" _Our_ children's," Robb corrected, anger now returning to his eyes, "And are you possibly suggesting that I ignore this and deny Trystan his birthright? I did not know I even had another son— or another daughter! If I had known. . ."

"They are legitimised under _my_ name, Robb," Everra insisted, her voice growing colder every passing moment, "Not your's. I am sorry that you are hurt, I am, truly. I am sorry that I lied to you and kept them from you, and convinced Jon to do the same but you will not commit this insanity." There was a moment when their eyes met across the room furiously, and the words she spoke next built a wall between them, "I won't let you."

"You won't let me?" he questioned softly, looking slightly taken aback by her words, "They are my children too! I am that their father and you took that away from me! You never even gave me the chance to be their father, and now they don't even care who I am because of—" He stopped mid-sentence, a look of realisation edging across his face, "Everra how did you manage to keep them a secret from Tyrion and Sansa? If they had known for sure that they were my children they would have told me immediately, which mean's that they think that someone else is the father even though Annabelle has my eyes. Who?"

She looked away from him when she answered, "Oberyn. They have never met the twins I never let them though Tyrion is aware that they exist and Sansa as well. Oberyn was there in the months leading up to their birth and he has always been close to the twins and was there when they were born so many people believe that he is their father—"

"Stop for a moment," Robb commanded, his eyes filling with hurt and apprehension, "Oberyn— _Oberyn_ was there when you gave birth to _our_ children and _I_ wasn't?" He looked as though she had just shoved a knife into his heart. She nodded limply, watching him with tender eyes. "By the seven," he breathed, "How will I explain this to Roslin? To my children? To Ned?"

"You're not going to explain anything," Everra exclaimed, "No one know's who the children's father is and I plan for it to stay that way."

"How can you ask that of me?" Robb questioned, his hands moving as he spoke passionately, "How can you ask me to keep this a secret from my own family—"

"Robb please—"

"No," he protested vehemently, "No they are my children too, you have had them their whole lives, they deserve to see— to know a part of them that is in their blood—"

"You want to take them to the North—"

"We are going to have to do something about the succession and Ned and Elayna and Theo and Talia—"

He was interrupted by the sound of her palms slamming down on the table with a loud _thud_. "You are not taking my children away from me!" She snarled at him fiercely, "I will go to war with you if I have too!" They stared at each other, shock etched out on both of their features. They had gone to war with each other once, and now a war was brimming between them.

Everra's features softened, and before she could stop herself she was standing in front of him and cupping his cheek with a sliver of softness in her eyes. "I loved you once," she told him, her voice strong yet soft, "I still do, and I know you loved me too. And I know that you love your children more than anything in this world, I also know that you love Roslin in your own way, and I can't promise you many things, but I can promise you this; if you do this, you will not only lose me, you will lose them too and our children will be stuck in the middle and blamed for the rest of their lives." Her eyes lingered on his lips for a moment before they rose back up to his eyes, "Please Robb, I'm begging you. If you ever once loved me, you won't say anything. Tell Roslin and your children in private if you wish it when the time is right but— don't announce it to the world. _Please._ "

"You're different," Robb whispered, "You're kinder, more gentle. It's a good change."

"They make me better," is what she replied before gingerly retracting her hand from his cheek but stopped when he put his hand on top of her's, holding it in place. "I. . ." he let out a sigh before closing his eyes tightly, "I still love you too." Everra looked at him, looked into those blue eyes and muttered, "But you love Roslin." She took a step away from him, averting her eyes from his. "I do," he admitted reluctantly, a look of guilt passing over his face and just as he was about to say something more, she shook her head and headed over to the door.

"The Queen offered me the position of becoming her hand," she said, pausing just before the door. She sent him a glance over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his as she added, "I think I'm going to accept." And then she left before he could call her back.

* * *

It took her a moment to realise that someone was opening a secret passage that led into her chambers at night. Everra grabbed a hold of one of her knives and waited for the person to enter her room, her knife at the ready, and nearly gasped once she caught sight of who it was.

"Robb!" she exclaimed, climbing out of her bed and moving over towards him, "What in the seven hells?"

"I needed to see you," he answered evenly, moving through the door but not closing it behind him, since it was only accessible from behind the wall, "And I knew that if I came to your chambers at night where everyone can see the rumours would run wild."

They stared at each other for a moment, before Everra ventured, "And you decided that sneaking into my room in the middle of the night was the best idea? Robb, I could have killed you."

His lips quirked up into a small smile before it quickly melted off his face.

"What do you want, Robb?" Everra asked tiredly, "I understand that you must still be angry but—"

"I love Roslin," he blurted out. Everra stared at him for a moment before nearly snapping at him but he spoke again before she could, "But I am in love with you, Everra. It's always been you." She tried to ignore the pounding of her heart but she couldn't.

"For just one night, do you think we could just belong to each other?" he asked her, staring into her eyes intently. Everra answered by capturing his lips with her own. It was strange, she would muse later on, it had been so many years, so many long years but it felt as though no time had passed at all. Touch had a memory, it would seem, and they quickly buried themselves in it.

When they were done a few hours later, with sweaty skin and tousled hair and lying in each other's arms, soaking in each other's warmth, Robb spoke, "Tell me about them."

Everra shifted slightly so that she could look him in the eye and asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," he replied wistfully, his eyes gentle and slightly sad.

She hesitated for only a mere moment before speaking, "They are the closest of friends and yet they are so, so different from each other. Annabelle was born first by a few moments, and she constantly teases Trystan over it, it drives him mad. Annabelle is witty and passionate but impulsive and quick to anger but she is smart, so incredibly smart. Trystan is different. He is more quiet and wise and quick to think before he acts. They complete each other in many ways. It will be hard for them to separate when they wed in a few moons. They met their betrothed's a little over a year prior. . ." she wove him stories of their childhood that made them laugh and smile, and other's that caused cracks across their hearts as she told them, moments the children had been judged for having no father, moments when Everra didn't think she could be a mother on her own. But the good outweighed the bad, and when she was finally finished, dawn's rays were shining through the cracks of the blinds.

"I wish I could have been there," Robb told her, his eyes shining.

"Maybe if the world had been kinder," Everra replied, burying her head in his shoulder.

"Maybe," Robb agreed sadly.

 **A/N I hope you all enjoyed this! If any of you have more idea's for one shots of your own, just send them to me! Thanks! Please R &R!**


	47. Bring Me Back to Life

**Hey guys this was a one shot AU asked for by Aarbs23 where Melisandre brings Everra back to life. Somethings are changed from the original BMHB storyline, and the most major one is that Robb and Everra brought Melisandre with them to Kings Landing. Thank you guys for everything! This is rather short, unfortunately. I just went back to school, and well, it is stressful and tiring, so I'm kind of drained right now, but I wanted to post this. If anyone wants another part, feel free to recommend something, but I can not promise when it will be uploaded. Anyway, thanks guys.**

 **Bring Me Back to Life**

Her body is still when Robb walks into the tent that they are keeping her. The silent sisters that are preparing her body quickly scatter from the room with a small bow, and pulled a sheet over Everra's body to cover her nakedness. Robb could not bare to see her so still, so _dead._ He missed her already, and she had only been gone for a few hours. Her eyes were shut, hiding those beautiful green orbs that he would never see again. He would never feel her beneath him ever again, or feel the passion in her kisses.

She was gone.

Dead.

Robb nearly cringed at the feeling that erupted in his heart at the thought, but before he could do anything, he heard Jon move in behind him. Robb moved closer to her, and sat in the chair that was next to the table that she laying on. His eyes linger on her face, his eyes filled with heart ache and grief. _Come back to me,_ his heart whispers, and he clasps onto one of her motionless hands, and nearly shivers at its coldness.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jon asks quietly, and Robb can practically feel his eyes boring into his skull. Robb however, does not move his eyes from her body. He has already decided. Many will frown and protest but damn them all to hell he _loves_ her and she _loves_ him. He remembers how she had whispered the words to him with her fighting breath, and how she had promised to never leave him. _You promised Everra,_ he thought, holding her hand tighter, _and yet you left anyway._ He was going to make her come back and he would gladly go to the deepest of the hells for it.

"Send for her," he responds despondently, his eyes lingering on her face, never blinking, never moving.

He is never going to leave her side.

* * *

The red priestess is surprised to see him to say the least. He rose from his chair, and reluctantly let go of Everra's hand, turning to face her. Jon stands a few steps off to the side of him, and Robb tells the guards to leave the tent. It had been Everra's idea to bring Melissandre along with them in order to ensure she kept up her end of the bargain. Robb hadn't liked the idea, but now he was cursing himself for ever protesting the idea. _She'll bring her back,_ he told himself, _she will. She must._

It helped soften the roar that was his grief, telling himself that.

"I heard about the Lady Everra," the red witch stated, her eyes strangely unreadable. It was then that it occurred to Robb that he and Jon were shielding her body from view, and with little hesitance he stepped forward, fire in his eyes. "Save her," he commanded roughly, watching her eyes dart to Everra's face, "Bring her back." He can feel the air in the room sharpen like a knife, and can feel Jon stiffen behind him.

"I beg your pardon," Melissandre gasps, her eyes widening, "Something such as this does not always work your grace, there is no guarantee that it will work. The Lord must want her to return, and I have never heard of it being successful—"

"You will make sure that it is successful," He snaps coldly, his blue eyes a winter storm as he stares the red priestess down. Her face pales considerably, and she nods reluctantly, fumbling with her hands. She is a far cry from the woman he had met months beforehand. He moves to the edge of the tent with Jon, watching her movements closely. Andromache was on the other side of the table, sleeping peacefully, her tail curled around her. Robb watched as Melissandre lowered the sheet from her body, and had this strange to shield Everra's body from view. There was a cloth with water that the silent sisters had left from when they were working on her, and the red witch grabbed it, squeezing out the water onto Everra's chest.

It was a rather simple routine that she was doing, Robb noticed impatiently. She merely dragged the wet cloth around Everra's body, muttering one words in a language he did not understand. It was difficult to believe that this was meant to bring Everra back to life. _She will,_ Robb thought, _she has to. I can't do this without her._

It was then that the red witch stopped her movements, and paused, waiting for a sign of life. Robb waited with her, his heart rising to his throat with anticipation. He and Jon shared a look of hope, before the witch quietly murmured, "It did not work."

Robb stumbled back a few steps, his limbs feeling as though they weighed like stone, but somehow he mangled to exclaim angrily in his shock, "What do you mean it did not work?" The woman winced as though he had struck her, but Robb did not care. _Everra is not coming back, she is never coming back, I can't I can't—_

He brushed past her and pulled the sheet back up Everra's body, his own thrumming with rage. "Guards!" he barked angrily, his blue eyes furious with grief as he swayed next to the table, "Take the prisoner to the barracks and prepare her for execution—"

"Robb!" Jon protested, his brown eyes widening.

"Get out!" Robb commanded as they dragged Melissandre away, "All of you out!" He didn't hear Jon leave as he sunk back into the chair, grief making his grow numb. "I'm sorry," he whispered, grabbing ahold of her cold, lifeless hand and brining it to his forehead as he curled forward in defeat, "I'm so sorry. I love you. I love you. Come back."

He sat there in silence, his breathing the only sound filling his ears until—

Everra gasped.


	48. Bring me back to Life part 2

**A/N I'd like to apologise to all of you, for being MIA lately. School, swim practices have taken over my priorities and I'd like to say that updates will surely to slower than usual. My workload is a lot heavier this year and well. . . yeah. Sorry about that guys. Secondly, I'd like to add to the readers who have followed me to my other GOT fix A Northern Frey, that I have not given up on the story and that I intent to update it as soon as I can. I just had to plan it out and I've kind of been suffering from Writer's Block these past few months. Again, I apologise.**

 **Thank you all for your patience, this one-shot is a continuation of the AU series where Melissandre brings Everra back to life. Keep in mind, this is a very, very short addition and if anyone has anything they would like for me to write, just PM me or mention it in your review.**

 **Thanks for everything! :)**

 **Until next time,**

 **Fionakevin073**

When Robb returns to the room she is wearing a warm robe and warm furs are wrapped around her frame. She is staring into nothing with an empty expression on her face, as though she were in some kind of trance.

Robb had to prevent the guards from executing Melissandre and had immediately rushed back.

"Everra," he whispered, kneeling down in front of her to grab onto one of her cold, cold hands. He never thought he would feel her heartbeat ever again, never thought that he would see those green eyes of her wide open.

"Come back," he told her gently, pressing a gentle kiss to her fingertips. Her gaze flutters to his, and she stares at him with a confusion that makes his heart pound.

"I was dead," she states, her voice desolate. Robb resists the urge to flinch at the memory of the blood pouring out of her stomach, and nods, his gaze fixed permanently on her hands.

"And yet I'm here."

Robb isn't sure if it's a statement or a question.

"Yes," he utters, holding onto her hands tighter, before finally summoning the courage to stare pleadingly into her green eyes. "Everra you came back," he tells her, a note of desperation evident in his voice. He's kneeling in front of her, holding her hands and begging her to understand— he, a king is kneeling in front of her, a woman who isn't his queen and yet who holds all of his heart regardless.

"I love you," he tells her, and presses another kiss to the insides of each of hands. _You love me too, Everra_ he thinks, _I know you do._

Her gaze moves away from his own to another spot in the room, and her voice is cold when she tells him, "You should have let me go." Her expression nearly crumples as she continues, "Why couldn't you let me go?"

He frowns at her, his eyes widening slightly as he begins to move closer to her before he is stopped by her voice slapping him in the face, "I'd like to be alone now, your grace," she says, not looking at him and pulled her hands out of his grasp.

"Everra—"

"Go," she commands lifelessly, and he stands there, gaping at her, at a loss for her words— for anything really but by the gods she _won't_ look at him and Everra—

"Please just go."

He leaves this time.

Robb barely see's Everra after the mayhem that follows when people discover that she is miraculously alive once more.

He doesn't see her when Jon says that it was _he_ who made Melissandre bring her back and Robb tries to shove the lump down his throat and—

And Robb is at a loss for what to do.

Whenever he tries to see her Jon is always there at her side, and sends him away with a small, apologetic look. His mother sends him these questioning looks, as though she knows something is wrong but she doesn't know what to do— neither does he.

But it's not as though they have time to fix this, or discuss the distance between them.

They still have a war to win, and Robb tries to focus on that. Throw's himself into discussions over maps and troops and plans and before he know's it they are at King's Landing and throwing themselves into battle and all he can think about— even as he shoves his sword into another man's side with Grey wind snarling at his side— is _Everra._ She hadn't even looked at him when he left— her injuries sustained from her _death_ prevented her from fighting— and had simply uttered an emotionless goodbye to him, and only showed any emotion when she said goodbye to Jon.

And so Robb fights with everything he has— with everything he is because he has to get back to her. He has to explain that he couldn't do this without her and that he loved her— and that he didn't think he would— could— ever stop.

He would tell her about why he couldn't let her go.


	49. The other ending

**Hey guys, this was requested by ClarisaWolf where Robb and Everra get their happy ending. Now, I know you wanted it to be in similar format to how I wrote the epilogue, but I hope you don't mind that I changed it a little bit, but Robb and Everra still do get their happy ending. This was the only other ending I considered but as you all know, I didn't decide to go through with it, and instead stuck with my original plan. Thank you all for your response to last chapter!**

 **Until next time (feel free to send me more requests),**

 **Fionakevin073**

Everra fiddles with her hands in the wheelhouse, her body jostling at the occasional bump in the road that sends her flying. Everra hated travelling in the wheelhouse and her mouth twists as she remembers the last time she used one.

She glances over at Andromache, who had come inside after becoming tired of running alongside the wheelhouse and sighs loudly. Her long raven hair, still long and as dark as it had always been though a few grey strands had begun to appear, brushed in front of her face as the wheelhouse jumped on the bumpy road.

Everra thinks of her children then and her heart clenches in her chest. Twenty years its been, since she had married Oberyn and in those twenty years, six of them she had been widowed. Fever, the Maester's had told her.

Her heart clenches even tighter of the thought of Oberyn and while she never loved him, nor he her, they did care for one another. She thinks of her son, Trystan, with his features identical to her own. He is more her than his father, however, though they were both very close. She thinks of her daughter Amara who is said to be one of the most beautiful women in the world. Married to the eldest son of Tyrion and Sansa, named Daywn.

A small smile graces her lips as she thinks of how her daughter complained to her bitterly about her being too far away for her to visit often at Redrun and thinks of how her daughter complained joyfully about her being way too far for her to even visit once a year.

A flutter suddenly erupts in her stomach at the thought and she thinks of _him_ and how the last time she saw him was at the Twins when he wed his wife— his late wife— Queen Roslin. She had left the morning after without a word, the lump in her throat too large for her to form words.

She had married Oberyn not even a moon later and had become with child within two.

Her children are Legrath's through and through however, despite their last name being Martell. Oberyn used to jokingly complain about how he was an outsider in his home (they resided at RedRun far more than they did at Dorne, though Everra made an effort when it came to them learning of Dornish culture and visiting Dorne itself).

Amara'a birth had been difficult and nearly deadly for her and so she never had another child after her. Everra did not mind that though, two was enough for her. More than enough. Especially with Oberyn's other daughters coming to visit RedRun once ever few years, though they stayed for a few moons each visit.

Everra looks down at her lap and traces the embroidered leaves on her black dress and inwardly marvels at how soft it feels. Dark colours had always suited her better.

* * *

Robb is nervous.

The last time he had been this nervous was all those years ago at Whispering Wood and this time he is not even going to battle.

He fiddles with his gloved hands and tries not to look nervous. Rickon casts him an amused glance as he notices and Shireen casts him a curious look as well. His son, Ned must notice because he asks him, "Father, are you alright?"

Robb nods at him and says, "I am, no need too worry."

His voice does little to reassure himself let alone his oldest, perceptive child. Robb stares at the gate and waits for the long awaited wheelhouse to come barreling through the gates of Winterfell.

He feels like the boy he once was all those years ago and wonders whether or not she has changed. He remembers her green sharp eyes, that had gazed at him with both fury and lust and his stomach flutters. He remembers the softness of her long, dark hair in his fingers and his hands twitch at his side.

Guilt still lingers in his heart as he thinks of Roslin with her kind smile and sweet laugh and he thinks of the words she had told him on her death bed four years prior, _Be happy._

 _I am_ , he thinks, though it does little too lessen the nervousness he feels.

His gaze flickers towards his two children still at Winterfell, and a fierce proudness warms his heart. He lives his children more than anything in the world and they are greater people than he could ever be. Ned, would be a greater king then Robb ever was.

Ned, who just hit the age of twenty, who looks exactly the same as his name sake. Elayna, the second eldest at age eighteen, looks like her mother with her sweet smile and dimples but she has his eyes. She married the eldest son of Willas Tyrell and Robb misses her fiercely. His second son, Theo, named after Roslin's deceased brother, looked a mixture of him and Roslin. Quiet and shy, Theo opted to become Ned's maester for when he became King. Then his youngest, Talia, who looked the most like him with her long, auburn curls and blue eyes.

Robb can see her bounce excitedly on her heels as she looks at the gate, tugging at the arm of her younger cousin, Robin, Rickon's eldest son.

The company around him is small, only his children, Rickon and Shireen and their children and a few servants are there because Robb knew she would not want a big entrance.

 _Twenty years_ he thinks, wondering whether or not it will be awkward when they see each other. The fear had grown in his stomach as this day had grown closer and closer.

 _What if she doesn't feel the same?_ The question haunted his dreams and his thoughts ever day but he always reassures himself with the knowledge that if she wanted to say no, she would have when he had first sent the raven to RedRun.

His heart both leaps and drops in his chest at the sight of her banners entering the gates of Winterfell and then the wheelhouse moves behind her knights and soldiers and Robb recognises Youngbird and is shocked at how little he has changed over the years.

A breeze washes over them and sweeps through his auburn curls and he casts a glance towards his lady mother, whom is already looking at him. When he first told her of his plans, she had disapproved and they had quarrelled for a moon before reconciling.

Her blue eyes are warm now as they look at him, _be happy_ they tell him.

He gives a brief smile and turns to look at the now-parked wheelhouse and watches quietly as the door is opened by Youngbird, revealing Everra.

His heart stops in his chest as he looks at her and it is as though a bucket of ice has been poured over him as blue meets green. _She looks the same_ , he thinks, _if not even more beautiful than she did all those twenty years ago._

Robb takes a shaky step forward, towards her but otherwise does not speak, too caught with emotion to even form words.

He can not tell what she is thinking as she steps towards him— he never could— but something tells him she is in the same state of emotion as him.

When she finally walks close enough to him so that he may greet her appropriately they simply look at each other. Robb's eyes soak in her features— the features he still loved so much after all these years— and the iciness that he once felt moments before has now dissolved rapidly into a fiercely warm emotion.

 _I love you_ , his eyes tell her as they look at each other silently, _do you love me?_

Green eyes stare at blue for the longest moments of Robb life and slowly— agonisingly slowly, she nods, a small smile gracing her lips.

Before Robb can think of how inappropriate it may look, they both seem to reach forward at the same time and wrap each other in a fierce embrace, Robb's gloved hands touching the back of her head and her arms wrapping around his neck.

They are holding each other so tightly that Robb fears they may burst from the sheer force but he can not bring himself to care as he thinks _I never want to let you go again._

* * *

Everra buries her head in his neck and feels relief flood through her veins.

 _I'm here,_ she thinks, _I'm not leaving you again._

She breathes loudly into his neck as she whispers loud enough for only him to hear, "I'm here."

She can practically _feel_ him smile, "You're here."

She's home.


	50. The Amusement Park

**A/N Hey guys, wow it's been a while since I updated any AU one shots for any of you, and I just had this sudden urge to write one right now. It's really short, and it's the first modern AU of Robb and Everra, but I hope you all enjoy it. If you have any ideas you want me to write, feel free to tell me! Thanks for everything! It's also pretty fluffy and cute too, which is a nice change for this couple, gotta say! Hope you enjoy!**

Everra can feel her heart begin to beat rapidly in her chest as she stares at the structure looming above her. She gulps softly, hoping that no one saw as she tilted her head up to get the full view of the structure. _Fuck,_ she thinks, wiping her sweaty palms on her jean shorts as fear begins to thrum through her veins.

She can hear the distant sounds of children screaming and shrieking with joy; the screams of those on top of the rollercoasters. Heck, Everra could see a 7 year old in the line for the rollercoaster she was currently gaping at in horror.

That's right, Everra was scared of a _fucking rollercoaster._

She shook her head discretely, and tried to calm herself down, her green eyes plastered on the ground as she tucked a strand of her wild black hair behind her ear (Everra had stubbornly refused to tie her hair back for the other rides, and now her usually tame black waves had grown crazy). _You can do this,_ she thinks, linking her hands together as she attempts to retrieve her usual impassive expression. _You can fucking do this._

She doesn't even notice Robb returning to her side from the washroom until he comments, "It'll be great huh?" Everra jumps at his words and nods, her nervousness rendering her incapable of words.

"Ev, you okay?" Robb asks, staring at her, his blue eyes shining brightly under the hot sun.

"Fucking fantastic," she murmurs, and she glares at a mother who stares at her in disgust, covering the ears of her young daughter as they hurried away.

She looks back at Robb for a moment, and she surprises the both of them when she buries her face into his chest, her hands gripping onto the hem of his white t-shirt. "Hey," Robb says loudly, surprised, "What's wrong babe?"

Everra pulls back just far enough for her to send him a dark look, "I thought we agreed that we would never call each other that." Robb laughs lightly and Everra buries her head back in his chest as the fear overcomes her once again as she catches sight of the massive drop out of the corner of her eyes.

He grasps a hold of shoulder and manages to manoeuvre her away from his chest, so that he can stare at her in the face. His eyes are filled with affection and light concern as he stares at her playfully, a smile playing on his lips.

"What's wrong? Aren't you having fun? Because don't act as if I didn't catch you smiling on the Cyclone—"

"My lips twitching is not me smiling, Robb."

"It is if they're twitching upwards," he retorts, making Everra scowl at him.

He glances at the _fucking monstrous device that Everra will surely meet her death on_ and an expression of both surprise and understanding dawns on his face. "Everra," he says quietly, a devious smile appearing on his lips, "Are you scared of the rollercoaster?"

Everra fidgets under his gaze, and refuses to look at him, her eyes placed firmly down on her black, beat up all-stars. "No," she mumbles petulantly, glaring at the seven year old girl in the line. "You are!" he exclaims, laughter and surprise in his voice. Everra shoots him a withering stare that would usually have people shaking with fear but does nothing to slow his laughter this time around, and she folds her arms in her front of her chest waiting for him to finish.

"You know I could always just leave," she threatens, as he wipes away a fake tear from the corner of his eye.

"I drove here _scaredy-cat,_ " Robb taunts, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Everra resists the punch him in the shoulder.

"Wouldn't stop me," she retorts, looking in the other direction.

He presses a kiss to her cheek and then one to her neck, but Everra can still feel him smiling against her skin.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," he finally murmurs against her shoulder, his auburn curls lighter in the sunlight. Everra can feel her lips twitch at his words and shakes her head, staring up at the bright blue rollercoaster.

"No," she says finally, shaking her head as she links their hands together, tugging him towards the long line that led to her inevitable doom, "I am _not_ going to ever live it down if I don't go on it. I must be the only seventeen year old in Ontario who hasn't."

"True," Robb points out teasingly.

Everra really does punch him in the shoulder this time.

 **The end.**


	51. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

**A/N Modern AU where Robb and Everra celebrate their very first Christmas as a couple. Thank you all for everything! I hope all of you have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I hope you all enjoy this little drabble. Also, to my fans of A Northern Frey, I know it's been a while but I'm working on the chapter right now. I'll try to have it finished somewhere within the next week. Thank you all so much!**

Robb was trying to enjoy himself.

Really, this usually wasn't the family event that Robb had to _pretend_ he enjoyed for his parents sake. Christmas was Robb's favourite holiday, and he had always been the most enthusiastic of his siblings on Christmas morning. Always helping his mother bake the cookies or cut the vegetables or always being the first one to wake up on Christmas morning and jump on everyone else's bed.

 _Not all of us have to enjoy the holidays Robb— everyone isn't you!_

He refused the urge to wince as her words echoed in his head once more, and he began to play with the bottom of his pyjama's zoned out of the conversation. They had all just finished opening their presents, and the family room was buzzing with excited chatter as his siblings talked amongst themselves and his parents began to clean up the ruined wrapping paper. He stared into the lit fire, the flames dancing on his face and yet he took no notice— too preoccupied with brooding to care.

"Robb!" his mother called out, as though she had been trying to catch his attention for several minutes.

"Sorry Mom," he murmured, jumping to his feet as he gently placed his presents to the side, "I'm just kinda out of it." He had no desire to explain to his Mom that the reason he was so out of it was because he and his girlfriend had almost broken up the day before Christmas. He met her eyes reluctantly, and she must have taken pity on him because she sighed softly and handed him some ruined wrapping paper, and told him to take it to the garage and go get dressed for the Christmas dinner.

Robb nodded thankfully and quickly hurried away to do the chores, though his insides felt sluggish. By the time he returned, the family room was rid of all of his siblings— along with all of their presents, leaving only the overly decorated tree and his pile of gifts in the room. He picked his gifts up with a sigh, and trudged up to his room, slamming his door a little too hard to be considered normal. He dumped his gifts on the bed— a sweater, a pair of headphones, gift cards, books, Kanye West tickets (Everra always gave him shit for liking him, with her cold looks and raised eyebrows). He winced at the mention of her, and ran a hand through his curls with a loud sigh. Not only was he in a foul mood, but it was the first time Jon had not been there for Christmas. He was currently at his girlfriends parents cottage for the holidays— her name was Ygritte, and they had been dating for almost two years; since sophomore year of high school. Robb flopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had even decorated his room— there was a small plastic christmas tree on his nightstand, and lights adorned his headboard along with a small wreath.

Christmas had always been his thing— he had loved it ever since he was born. Robb had wanted to get her involved with it as much as possible because he knew that her parents had died when she was very young and even when they were alive they hadn't celebrated it because her Dad was the typical filthy rich asshole CEO who treated her Mom like shit. And also because he knew Everra found the things frivolous and disgusting— which he in turn thought was appalling and since he refused to date a Scrooge—

The fight from yesterday echoed in his brain, and he shook his head violently, overly eager to be rid of any mention of her. He got out of bed with a heavy sigh, and began to dressed, pulling out a pair of black pants and a red button down shirt. They always had a massive Christmas party with their close friends and their children and Robb was suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that they weren't expected to arrive for another two hours. He got ready quickly and ran a quick brush through his hair along with a spray of cologne (not the one he usually wore, he knew Everra liked that one, even if she never said it) and then hurried out of his room, making his way to the kitchen on the floor below.

His mother appears a few minutes after him, and he compliments her quickly but genuinely, and smiles briefly as she thanks him. Her auburn curls are pinned back delicately, with small diamond earrings gracing her ears. She looks graceful, elegant, just as she always does. But it's not that that makes Robb want to melt into a puddle on the floor. It's the concerned look she's throwing his way. He curses himself for his transparency, but before he can say anything she buts in, "Robb, what's wrong?"

He stares down at the counter in an attempt to avoid her gaze, and it's silent for a few moments before she sighs and tries again, this time with an awkward tone, "Is it. . . is it Everra?" He can hear the barely contained distain in her voice as she utters the name— and he refuses the urge to smile. They had disliked each other from the moment they met— his Mom thought she was too cold and Everra thought his Mom was too controlling— but they had tried to mask their mutual dislike for his sake.

"Is she not coming today?" she asks again.

"I don't know Mom," he answers finally, summoning up the courage to look her in the eye, "I wouldn't expect her to. Christmas isn't really her thing." It's another reminder of how different they are, of how it's so difficult to fit into each other's lives. She's reserved, he's outgoing. He's naive, she trusts people as far as she can throw them.

"Alright," his mother says evenly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Let's try take your mind off. . . whatever's upsetting you. Start peeling the potatoes would you? Make sure to wash your hands first. Your siblings are helping your father set up the living room and the dining room."

He does as he's told quietly, the only sounds in the kitchen being his mother humming along tot he Christmas music and her cutting vegetables. Before he starts peeling the potatoes he pulls his phone out of his pocket and stares at his lock screen which is a rare picture of him and Everra at Wonderland. He's smiling at the camera, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, but her head is buried into his shoulder as she stubbornly looks away from the camera. It makes the tension in his body melt away for a few seconds, before he quickly slides his phone back into his pocket and starts peeling the potatoes.

Two hours and two guests arriving later he's wiping his hands on a towel, surveying the mountain of food around him. His Mom and Dad are talking to the guests in the living room, and his siblings are entertaining their kids in the family room. The doorbell rings loudly, interrupting the conversation, and he hurriedly says, "I'll get it." Uncle Benjen hasn't arrived yet, and he's eager to see his uncle for the first time in a year. He opens the door with the words in mouth, "Uncle Benjen—" the words die in his throat as he takes in the person in front of him.

She's wearing a short sleeved black dress that falls to her knees, and there's a black coat that she's holding in her arms. Her hair has been curled, and two parts have been pinned back behind her, so her face is not obstructed from view. She looks beautiful, and he wants to tell her that— really, he does, but the words are lodged in his throat.

"Hi," she says eventually, and its then that he notices the large christmas bag in her hands. His eyebrows raise as he stares at the bag— stares at her, trying to summon some words. "Hi," he says eventually, his blue eyes meeting her green ones. "I didn't think you were coming."

Her green eyes flicker at his words, and they soften tinily— if he was anyone else he wouldn't even have noticed. They continue to stare at each other until finally Robb lets go of the door handle and enwraps her in a tight hug. He can feel her body stiffen with surprise and for more than a minute its simply him holding onto her until she eventually wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face into his neck. She doesn't apologise, and neither does he because now is enough. Her simply showing up for him— even though she hates Christmas, even though she hates his mother— is more than enough for him. She's cold and the opposite of cheerful and quiet and she doesn't let anyone in but if she has anything close to a weakness it's him. And Everra is Robb's person, however weird it may seem.

"C'mon," he says gradually, pulling away from her enough to only keep his arm around her shoulder, "Lets go inside." She nods silently, but her lips twitch up slightly— the closest thing he's ever seen to a smile. "Lets go see whether or not Santa Claus left something for you," he whispers into her hair, and he laughs when she punches him in the stomach lightly.

And it's good.


	52. In every universe, I'd find you

**A/N Hey guys! I planned on posting this on the two year anniversary of BMHB but life got in the way and well, I'm posting it now. I hope you all enjoy this little one shot universe I created, I know that I really enjoyed writing it. You guys have been so amazing with this story and because of all of your reviews and favourites/follows on this one it's inspired me to continue on writing. Thank you for everything, it means the world. I hope you all enjoyed Robb's and Everra's journey as much as I did.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Fionakevin073**

 **Summary: Four worlds where Robb and Everra end up together and one which they kind of/almost do.**

 **(Some of these scenarios are inspired by other movies and tv shows and I have no ownership whatsoever of any of those.)**

 _i._

Robb wasn't sure how he, the quarterback of his high school football team and the most popular guy in school ended up here.

In glee club.

Oh wait, that's a lie, of course he did.

Mr. Stark had found god knows how many grams of weed in his locker— which he didn't even know how it got there— but he had been cool about it, Mr. Stark that is. Meaning that he hadn't immediately called his single mother and the police and got him expelled from school but still— joining _Glee club? Glee club?_

He can practically feel both his girlfriend Jeyne and his best friend Theon's distress and confusion from all the way in the auditorium. _And who are these people?_ he thinks as the intro to _You're the one that I want_ begins to play. He recognises Loras, whom he and his friends had recently tossed into a dumpster— hey Robb had made sure that Loras's Valentino jacket had been taken off for safekeeping before he let them do it— and the other goth chick Dany (short for some really, really, long dramatic name that he can't even pronounce) but he isn't too sure about the rest. Wait, no— the kid in the wheelchair is Sam and the other girl with the afro is Missendai or something like that. He knows it starts with an M.

And then there's Everra.

Who everyone hates and thinks is annoying.

Who, he may or may not have been forced to throw eggs at last year but hey, if it's any consolation, Robb threw up from guilt the moment he got home.

He has a feeling that it wouldn't really change anything.

Mr. Stark nods at him and so finally, nervously, Robb opens his mouth and sings.

" _I got chills, they're multiplying/ And I'm losing control,"_ his voice is shaky and rough and though Robb kinda hates himself for it his soul lights on fire the moment the words leave his mouth. Nothing had ever made him feel like singing did; like nothing else in the world mattered except the music. " _But the power, you're supplying/ It's electrifying!"_

There's a moment before Everra joins in and the sound of her voice makes something on the right side of his chest, right near his heart— is his heart on the left or right side of his chest?— flutter and grow.

" _You better shape up/ Because I need a man. . ."_

—

So okay, Everra may be kinda insane. She's also kind of sneaky hot too, with her black hair and green eyes and yeah sure she may smile too much and talk about herself and her talent 24/7 but she's the only one—besides his Mom— who has ever called him talented before and actually meant it.

And yeah, that other show choir group, _Lannister Adrenaline_ is crazy good. Like, a billion times better than they are. Robb wonders as to whether or not this means that the club is over when he gets home but he surprises himself by feeling disappointed when Mr. Stark tells them that he's leaving Westeros High to become a banker or something.

He's kinda relieved too though.

Those paintball stains from where Theon and the rest of the guys ambushed him after they found out about him being in Glee Club were a pain to wash off and it's not like he's swimming in cash for him to suddenly afford a whole new wardrobe. Besides, he just got to second base with Jeyne and he doesn't want to screw that up.

(He ignores the fact that whenever they kiss he keeps on picturing another annoying though beautiful raven haired beauty the whole time and at night when he jerks off he thinks about Everra for a whole two seconds before he lets go)

—

 _Fuck it,_ he thinks, as he pushes Sam's wheelchair into the auditorium.

 _Fuck what Theon and Jeyne think,_ he thinks triumphantly, he's going to continue on being in Glee Club despite Mr. Stark leaving because he loves singing and he's so sick of being this asshole to everyone who even dares to be different because all of his friends— and himself— are such pathetic losers who bring other people down to make themselves feel better about themselves.

When he stops in front of the rest of group in the middle of a dance rehearsal, he goes on this speech about he wants to be _here_ and with _them_ because this is what he _loves_ doing. He enjoys football and video games and girls but he _loves_ singing. There's a difference.

"I've got the music," he tells them, though his eyes linger on Everra's.

Later as the music begins to start, he finally feels like he belongs somewhere.

" _Just a small town girl/ living in a lonely world,"_ he stares out into the empty auditorium, something warm and _special_ spreading through his veins. _"She took the midnight train going anywhere."_ He turns to look at Everra as she begins to sing, her eyes sparkling. " _Just a city boy/ Born and raised in South Detroit/ She took the midnight train going anywhere."_

" _A singer in a smokey room,"_ he sings, smiling in spite of himself. " _A smell of wine and cheap perfume,"_ she echoes and God if her voice isn't the most beautiful thing he's ever heard but then they're voices are joining together and fuck he's getting chills up his spine.

" _For a smile they can share the night/_ _It goes on and on and on and on/ Strangers, waiting / Up and down the boulevard oh shadows, searching in the night."_ They're staring into each other's eyes as they sing together and Jesus, by the end of the number not only is Mr. Stark telling them that he's staying but he's like 99.9% sure that he's halfway in love with Everra Legrath.

(It takes them till the end of their Senior year to win their nationals and another six after that for Robb to propose to her right on the very stage where they first met and she taught him what love felt like)

ii.

Everra wins the seventy fourth Hunger Games when she's seventeen years old with Robb Stark by her side, of all people. They're the first in the history of the Games to ever both come out as Victors— even if they are from the same district— and Everra can't help but think that if there's no one else she would have rather been in the Games with other than him. Not even with her best friend Daavos.

She wouldn't trade the boy with the bread for anything.

She has scars and burn marks on every inch of her skin but she doesn't let go of his hands to be treated until he is treated first and when she meets the stony gaze of President Tywin during their Victors ceremony, she feels a tiny bit braver when his fingers brush against hers.

 _We are star crossed lovers,_ she thinks, when she can't stop herself from leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek in gratitude.

—

Except he's actually in love with her.

In her defence, Everra hadn't even known that his feelings were _real,_ regardless of how he had blind sided her with his confession on live television in his interview with Baelish. Even during the games, she though that they had a mutual understanding; this was just for them to survive. It wasn't real. He would go home to his already wealthy—ish family and she would return to hers; to her little brother Jon and depressed mother and give them all a better life free of starvation.

But as it turns out, he is actually, genuinely in love with her.

And she—

 _Fuck,_ she can't even think about that because she has President Tywin down her back and their wedding and Daavos—who is apparently in love with her too— and then all of a sudden she's thrust back into the Games because she couldn't convince Tywin that their star crossed romance was real.

 _I really don't have time to figure this all out,_ she thinks, during their first night in the arena.

But a few days later, when he tells her honestly— without any self-pity of any kind— that, "Nobody needs me."

She can't help but protest— genuinely, truthfully, that, "That's not true. I need you."

And then when she leans over and presses a kiss on his lips, she feels something, a hunger spread in her chest and climb up her throat.

—

The rebellion is over.

They've won the war.

The Games are over.

Jon is dead.

Almost everyone she cares about has left District 12.

Robb isn't there.

Until one day he is.

They grow back together slowly, gently and one night when they're in bed together and he whispers, "You love me, real or not real?"

She doesn't hesitate with replying, "Real."

Later, when they have kids— it took a lot of time for her to even stomach the idea of having her own child, let alone two— and have been married for years, she knows deep down in her heart that this would have happened, regardless of whether or not they would have been in the Games.

She needs hope and the promise of _life_ and only he can give her that.

iii.

 _Oh fuck,_ Robb thinks, his eyes widening despite his recent grogginess as he stares at the sleeping form beside him, _I fucking slept with my uncle's fiancé._ Okay, to be fair to him, they had both a) drunk a lot together, b) she was super freaking gorgeous and the same age as him (his uncle was only ten years older than he was) and c) everyone knew that their engagement was just for show. Since his Granddad died a few years prior and left his company in Edmure's— Robb's uncle— hands it had been on the downhill. Everra's company had wanted to buy it from them in order to save it and Robb doesn't know exactly how they got together but it happened for business.

Or at least, that's what he wants to tell himself.

And also, Robb may or may not have like a small fling going on with the girl—Roslin— living a few houses down, Roslin— but it's not like they're exclusive or anything. Robb doesn't cheat. They've only gone to like second base and she's told him multiple times that she's also having sex with other people so. . .

He looks around her bedroom and his mouth kind of drops open. Yeah, all of his family was really rich— on his father's and mother's side— but he had never been in a bedroom so _big_ before. Literally, it was like the size of his, Sansa's and his parents bedroom all combined into one.

But it was bare. Like, if he hadn't spent the whole night in it— and God had it been a good one— he would have thought that someone had just moved in. As far as his knowledge went, the Legrath's had owned this house— mansion or palace would be a better term— forever.

 _Oh shit,_ he thinks, once he feels her stir beside him. He quickly shuts his eyes again and feigns sleep, though he can feel her begin to wake up. He's almost disappointed when he doesn't hear her gasp with shock or feel her cuddle closer to him— not that she's the kind of person who _cuddles_ (like seriously, she's kinda really intimidating 99.9% of the time, she rarely ever smiles)— he's not sure why he's disappointed but he just _is._

He feels her slip out of the bed and reach for something and then he can't even pretend to sleep anymore as he opens his eyes to her slipping on a silk wardrobe. He gulps loudly and even though her back is to him she tells him, "I know you're awake."

Yeah, she's also kind of freaky perceptive and everything. Like, she's kind of a genius or something.

"Oh," he murmurs, like a freaking _idiot._

She turns around to look at him, her green eyes calculating as she takes in his naked chest. Robb can't help but admire her either and feels a small sliver of satisfaction as he notices the hickey he made on her chest.

"I am not a piece of meat for you to ogle," she snaps, raising an eyebrow at him, "Nor am I one of your possessions for you to claim. We're not dogs." Robb feels his cheeks redden with shame as he stammers, "No— I didn't mean—"

She sighs loudly and walks over to him before sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for a glass of water on her nightstand. "I know," she murmurs softly before she frowns, deep in thought. There's some awkward silence before she calmly states, "Well, I supposed this was natural occurrence. Our hormones flared up due to the alcohol in our system and led to us having coitus—"

"What the fuck is coitus—"

"We are two adults who will handle this situation maturely and we will continue to be responsible moving forward—"

"Forward?" Robb questions dumbly, feeling as though it were too early in the morning for her to be speaking so. . . _formally._ Everra tilts her head as she looks at him and Robb isn't sure but he's pretty certain that she's amused, which makes him feel even more dumb than before.

"Well, when we have coitus in the future we will continue to use contraceptives. I do happen to be on the pill, so that will be sufficient but I must insist that you use condoms until we are both tested for STI's—"

"Isn't it STD's—"

"This arrangement of ours should and will continue to remain secret for its entire duration. You and your family are staying in my home until the last week of August before you return to Canada to continue your studies. I feel as though us having a sexual relationship for exactly forty days will be beneficial for the both of us as it's duration is long enough for us to not become bored with each other's. . . _performances_ so to speak."

"But you're engaged to my Uncle!"

She raises an eyebrow at him before she nods, as if to say 'you have a point'. "My relationship with Edmure is based purely on our business interactions. I have a personal disdain for romance but I have a greater disdain for most of the other men in my industry who think that a woman is not fit to be a head a billion dollar Empire. Edmure has neither the brains nor the heart to try and take over my company and is generally viewed as a fool by most other organisations." Her voice softens slightly as she adds, "But he is a harmless fool who tries. Your Uncle is well aware of my feelings and intentions and I am perfectly aware of his. Granted, me sleeping with his nephew may not be something he is entirely at ease with but if things go as planned, he will not even need to know of this. . . relationship."

She said the word as though it were some kind of disease. "If it makes you feel any better," she finally says, meeting his gaze, "He also happens to be sleeping with other people other than me as well." Robb can feel his eyebrows raise at how nonchalant she sounded, almost as though they were discussing the weather. "I'm not going to force you into anything," she tells him, "It is your choice."

"I want to," he tells her and he means it as well. That sex was perhaps the best of his life. "But I—I don't condone cheating. I may not be particularly close to my Uncle but as much as I would like too, he wouldn't do that to me."

Everra studies him closely and leans over to wrap a hand around his wrist. "I understand," she tells him, shrugging, "Your performance last night was enjoyable." She lets go and stands up. "Be sure to pick up your clothes on your way out. Sleep some more if you wish."

Then she disappears into her bathroom, leaving him all alone.

—

It should have been easy to stop thinking about her.

Before they had been ya know, been together, he had thought about her a lot. In _that_ way. But now, he literally can not stop. He dreams of her, of _them_ every night. He's rarely seen her in the past week since _it_ had happened and he figures that it's for the best. Right? Sleeping with his Uncle's fiancé is bad, despite the fact that he's also cheating on her.

It's bad.

Robb was heading back to the beach house after a day at the beach when he hears sounds. It's sex sounds. And it's loud and it's coming from the pool house. Robb glances through the window on his way to the beach house, ready to chew out Theon for having sex so freaking loudly when his siblings could be coming up from the private beach at any moment when he stops in his tracks.

Because that isn't Theon.

That's his uncle screwing Roslin.

 _What the fuck?_ he thinks, before another thought flies through his head, _so much for him not doing the same to me._

So you can imagine what he did next.

He runs up to Everra's room, knocks and when he's let in he wastes no time in rushing forward and kissing her.

Yeah he's totally not going to feel guilty anymore.

—

So yeah, the second time Robb wakes up next to Everra and realises that he's kind of screwed up is about a year later. Yeah, he knows that they were supposed to stop whatever—this—was at the end of August but somehow they kept on doing it during Christmas, Easter, whenever they would see each other, which was more sporadic than one would think.

Robb wasn't needed that much in Canada anymore for his father's business when he finally told him that he had no desire to do business whatsoever. His parents were surprisingly cool with it and had fully supported him when he announced his desire to become a writer. Surprise, surprise, his novel had to with adultery.

Yeah, Everra had raised an eyebrow at him when she had first the read his manuscript but she had told him later that it had been a good read, if 'a bit too sentimental at times'. Whatever that meant.

Anyway, Robb woke up next to Everra— about a week before her wedding day— and realised something.

 _Holy fuck, not only am I sleeping with my Uncle's girlfriend I'm also kinda— really, totally— in love with her. Shit. Okay,_ he thinks, after two minutes of paralysing panic as she slept next to him, _I won't tell her. I'll be fine and get over it._

The moment she's out of bed, he blurts out, "I love you. Please don't marry my Uncle."

A sentence he thought he'd never say.

Everra turned to look at him, her face emotionless.

"You. . . _love_ me?" she asks.

"Yes."

"Oh."

. . .

"Are you going to say anything else?"

"I'm thinking."

Silence.

"Everra?"

Silence.

"Babe—"

"This is not a time for personal endearments, Robb."

Robb sighs before he gets out of the bed and tugs on a pair of sweats before approaching her from behind. He leans his head against her shoulder and murmurs, "You don't love him and he doesn't love you. I don't want to be a top notch CEO and I won't ever betray you. You know that. I love you and I'll wait until things blow over with Edmure." He grips the back of her elbows as he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck. "Please say yes, baby."

Everra sighs softly before turning around to look at him, her expression unreadable. "I still hate romance," she informs him, "the chances of me ever saying what you just said is incredibly slim and near impossible. I probably won't ever want to have kids and I'll be busy with work most of the time." She frowns for a moment before pointing out, "And our relationship is based on an affair that somehow Edmure hasn't even caught on to yet. Or the media for that matter."

Robb didn't say anything.

"You'll wait?" she says finally, causing him to break out into a smile.

"I'll wait."

(He does end up waiting and though they're family is shocked and outraged once they find out about them, they quickly calm down and yeah, it does take three years of them being together— properly— for her to say I love you but he's happy. They're happy.

And at their wedding five years after they got together, when she whispers to him, "I still hate romance." All he does is laugh because he knows that she doesn't mind it that much when it comes to him.)

iv.

Everra stares down at the decorated chest in the servants hands, admiring how the diamond on the top gleamed under the sunlight.

"Send it back," she commanded quietly, though apart of her longed to open it and accept his gifts, she would _not_ be his mistress. Not even if he was the King of England. "What?" her father asked from behind her, "Are you mad?"

"No," she replied briskly, staring into the servants eyes, "Tell the King that while I am very flattered and humbled that he wishes to bestow his affection on me, tell him that I am unworthy of such a gift and do not wish to compromise the vow I made to the Queen to serve her in her household whole heartedly."

The servant blinks at her, once, twice before nodding and murmuring, "My lady," before leaving the room. "You're mad sister," her brother whispers beside her, "He's already bedded Mary—"

"Yes and then he discarded out sister when he got bored," she snaps, "I am _not_ a prostitute."

Though she must admit, the King go England is without a doubt the most handsome and charming man she had ever seen in her life. He had long since been unfaithful to Queen Talisa now that she was unable to bear him children and there were rumours that he wished to set her aside and find someone else to marry in hope of producing a male heir.

 _Maybe that someone could be you._

—

He sends more gifts and more letters declaring his love for her and she sends them all back. She only ever writes one reply to tell him that while she loves him dearly as her King, she can not accept him into her bed.

One day, when Anne returns from her walk in the gardens, he is there waiting for her.

At Hever.

In her home.

Away from Whitehall and the Queen.

"Your majesty," she murmurs, curtsying. Before she can rise, he grabs a hold of her elbows and crushes her to him, his lips surging for hers. For a moment, she allows herself to kiss him back, desire and warmth pooling in her stomach before she forces herself to pull away.

"I can not."

He groans with frustration as he runs his hands through his auburn hair.

"I love you— I swear that I will desire no other. I will devote all my time, love and affection to you, if you only agree to my mistress. I will give you anything within my power— love, jewels, riches for both you and your family."

It's tempting. It is.

But Everra still won't allow herself to be degraded in such a way.

"Your majesty the only man who I ever intent to give my maiden hand is my husband and whoever he may be, only he will have it." He groans even louder now, his cheeks growing red as he stares at her, "Everra!" he exclaims, frustrated.

"My sister is called the great prostitute my everyone!" She told him, her voice slightly raised, "I will only be with my husband—"

"Then I will become your husband," he suddenly declares, his blue eyes widening as though he just realised something. He kneels down in front of her and grasps a hold of her hands, forcing her to stare into his eyes. "I will make you my Queen, lovely Everra. I swear it. If only you promise to love me now and forever and to be my one and only friend."

"You can not—"

"I will," he promises fervently, pressing kisses onto her hands.

There's silence for a moment before Everra finally whispers, "I do not believe you, your majesty."

His eyes immediately grow disillusioned as he stands up immediately, his expression and voice suddenly curt as he wishes her a good day before stalking away, leaving her alone as tears begin to form in her eyes.

—

He doesn't give up.

He sends her jewels and letters filled with promises. He sends his admirals to Italy to ask for a divorce and begins to publicly live a separate life from Talisa. One day, he sends her a letter that begs her to come back to court.

To him.

She finally does and he surprises her and everyone around him when he leans forward and presses a kiss against her cheek before grasping onto her hand and leading her to the front of the room to sit next to him, where the Queen—who is mysteriously absent— usually sits.

And gradually, Everra believes him.

She falls in love with him. Even as time goes by and the divorce grows farther and farther from sight, she _loves_ him. He's hers. Within the span of two years, she goes from being the daughter of a lower nobleman to the daughter of an Earl and the sister of a Viscount. He makes her a Duchess herself and even calls her 'my queen' during their private moments.

But she grows frustrated with the time that goes by. Her ability to give the King a son grows slimmer with each passing year that goes by, until one day Everra explodes with frustration.

"It has been three years, Robb," she snaps, slapping away his hands when he attempts to comfort her and soothe her. "Where is the divorce? Where are our children? My time is running out— I will not be able to bare any children by the time we manage to get one—"

"That isn't true! We will have children— boys and girls who will grow up as princes and princesses, I swear it. The vatican just needs some more convincing—"

"They will not be convinced— if we can not get a divorce from them perhaps we should get one from somewhere else!"

His eyes grew wide as he took in what she had just said. "You mean you wish for me to separate from the Catholic Church?"

Bitterness swelled inside her.

"You fear the Vatican more than you love me," she accused, moving towards the door, being unable to be in his presence any longer, "You fear your wife more than you love me!"

"Sweetheart— wait, I beg of you—"

Everra whirled and turned to glare at him, her eyes furious, "The next time you call me an endearment, your majesty, it better well be Queen." Then she stormed out of the room and returned home to Hever, in order to escape his wrath.

—

But he does do it for her.

He breaks away from the Catholic Church and makes himself the head of the Church in England, just so that he can marry her.

And they do get married in a splendid ceremony on the first of May.

Everra is declared Queen in the same ceremony and when the crown is first placed on her head, Robb leans over and whispers in her ear, "We are going to create a dynasty to last the ages."

And they do.

v.

The one universe where they don't make it, it's because she died.

But they do end up together.

In Heaven or Hell or wherever.

And as Robb wakes up in this. . . other life with her by his side, just as beautiful as the day she died, he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
